Long Way Back
by fyd818
Summary: AU This was war. And this time, it was personal. TeylaOC, RononTeyla eventually .:On Hiatus:.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own "Stargate: Atlantis." I am in no way trying to make a profit off this story, I am merely writing it and posting for my and other people's enjoyment.

Synopsis: AU This was war. And this time, it was personal. RononTeyla eventually

Rating: T

Warnings: Violence

Pairings: Ronon/Teyla, Teyla/OC

Spoilers: _Rising_; _The Gift_; _The Siege pt. 3_; _Runner_; _Duet_; _Trinity_; _Sateda_; possible season 4 spoilers

Title: _ Long Way Back_

Author: fyd818

Part 1/?

**Special Thanks** goes to Mama Jo for the beta, and the title. Thank you thank you thank you!

Author's notes: I have always wanted to do a fic that explores Ronon and Teyla's pasts. And I also wanted to do a fic that involved the Athosians and the Satedans. So I am kind of combining it all in this one fic. I really hope that you enjoy, and thanks for reading!

_**Long Way Back**_

_fyd818_

**-Prologue-**

A chill wind swept the street. It whistled around corners and pierced straight through Teyla Emmagan's thin coat. She shivered, unconsciously hastening her steps as the hair on the back of her neck rose. In the pale light of the moon, every shadow looked like an enemy waiting to pounce.

Mist swirled around her, softening what in daylight would be very harsh surroundings. Dark veiled the equally black heart of Kvash, the seedy world that no sane man ever dared enter; home to murderers, thieves, fugitives. Weapons and distrust were the only requirements for residence.

Teyla could almost feel the evil seeping through the soles of her boots. She kept a very close eye on her surroundings, one hand never straying far from the hilt of her battle knife. A woman of her slight stature walking alone along these streets at night was begging for trouble – trouble that she would very willingly give whoever dared attack her (and had).

She stopped suddenly in the shadow of a doorway. Light seeped from beneath the door, a thin strip of yellow that illuminated the toes of her scuffed boots. She darted one quick, nervous glance over her shoulder; raised her hand and rapped her knuckles against the wooden door.

The light intensified as the door jerked open; Teyla had to blink a few times to adjust to the brightness. The golden glow silhouetted the tall, broad-shouldered figure still blocking her entrance. Dreadlocks hung loosely over his shoulders and around his face; green eyes glittered as he turned his head to look back into the house. He looked at her again, eyes sweeping her form in one quick professional motion. "Come, quick." A long-fingered hand reached out, snagged her by her shoulder, and dragged her in.

Teyla didn't protest his continued hold on her as he shut the door. She darted a quick look around the room before her – there was no one there.

"Where have you been?" Ronon Dex finally let go of her shoulder. He spoke in a low growl; this coupled with the way he towered over her should have intimidated her.

It didn't. "I got delayed." It was mostly the truth, anyway. She didn't dare mention the fight. "I apologize."

Ronon backed off a little, easily looking over her head towards the curtained-off doorway at the back of the room. Unconsciously lowering his voice, he said: "I was getting ready to come looking for you. When you didn't show up on time, I thought—" He stopped and squinted at her. A little smile curled his lips. "I assume the other guy lost?"

Teyla let out her breath and returned the smile. "Never assume." She finally allowed herself to relax. "Is he here?"

Suddenly Ronon was all business. "Yes. He was early." He placed a gentle hand between her shoulders and guided her towards the curtain.

She took the comment as the attempt at lightheartedness it was meant to be. Ronon pulled the curtain aside, allowing her to proceed him into the room beyond; it was a motion of courtesy Teyla wasn't sure she wanted to accept.

This room was considerably dimmer than the one she'd just exited. Pausing just far enough in to allow Ronon entrance as well, she waited for her eyes to adjust.

When the candlelight finally became enough to see by, Teyla scanned the room to get a handle on her surroundings. A table and three chairs sat in the middle of the small room, just in front of her. Against the left wall stood a bookcase filled with vials of strange-looking liquids, testing equipment, and books. The opposite wall had a rumpled bed shoved against it; the wall straight ahead was empty of any furniture or decoration.

A shadow at the back of the room moved; Teyla instinctively reached for her knife. Ronon, sensing more than seeing her motion, spoke from directly behind her. "Warran, this is Teyla."

She slipped her hand from beneath her coat again. Hopefully Warran hadn't noticed her reaction to his presence.

The shadow materialized into a tall, slender man. His hairline was receding and a long scar extended from the lobe of his right ear to the corner of his lip. Teyla wondered if he were a scientist, a soldier, or both.

He warily gave her the same up-and-down that she gave him. "Pleasure." Warran moved across the room to the table. "Both, sit."

_A man of few words._ Teyla waved Ronon away when he started to pull out her chair and firmly sat down. Remembering the vials in the bookcase, she decided not to accept anything to eat or drink.

That thought occurred just in time. Warran reached for the carafe of water sitting in the center of the table. "Water?"

Both Ronon and Teyla immediately declined. Their host didn't seem offended; he just shrugged his shoulders and sat down in the last chair. "I take it you both are here for the piece of information I let slip that I had?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ronon's hand move to the grip of his blaster. "How much?"

Warran looked at Ronon, then Teyla, a long appraisal. He turned back to the Satedan and locked eyes with him. "What do you have?"

Teyla curled her fingers around the hilt of her knife again. Sometimes she wondered why she kept following Ronon into these crazy, dangerous situations. She expected one of three things to explode soon – Ronon, Warran, or the vials of liquid.

She looked from Ronon to Warran, waiting for one or the other to blink. She saw beyond Warran's leg that his own hand gripped a weapon.

_Oh no._ She slid a glance at Ronon; saw he knew. A tiny smile twitched his lips, and his fingers flexed on his weapon.

Beads of sweat were beginning to form on Warran's forehead. One glistening drop trickled down the side of his face and over his scar; his eye twitched but didn't blink. His hand tightened on his weapon.

_Zwoop!_

Warran jumped and cowered. A vial on the bookcase shattered, dripping fluorescent blue liquid down the wooden shelves to the floor.

Ronon slipped his blaster back into its holster and leaned forward a little. "That enough?" He hadn't blinked through the entire process.

Warran was still shaking. "P-Plenty." He was looking at Ronon with a new respect that had not been present when Teyla first saw him. "The man you're looking for is named Larson. Larson Gathos. He lives on a world called Belsa. Word is that he's organizing some big uprising against the Wraith. All manner of men brave or stupid enough to support the cause are flocking there. It's supposed to be a big secret, but fortunately for you I know the right people."

Ronon and Teyla exchanged glances, then stood as one. "Thank you," Teyla said to Warran. Ronon just grunted some insincere-sounding word that might have been "yeah."

Warran was still staring at Ronon with wide, frightened eyes. "Any time," he said. He did not sound like he meant it.

Teyla went through the curtain first and held it as Ronon backed out. His eyes remained focused on Warran, and his hand on his gun, until Teyla dropped the curtain.

"That was—" she struggled for the right word as they left via the front door.

"Fun?" Ronon shrugged at her look. "We got the information we came for." He inched a little closer and darted a dangerous look – complete with slightly bared teeth – at a man who was shuffling by a little too slowly. The scoundrel scurried on his way, trying to act like he hadn't been eyeing Teyla. "I must admit, it will be nice to leave this world. I think we're pressing our luck a little." He pulled his weapon free of its holster, spun it a few times, and then dropped it back into place.

"I am sure Warran would agree." She kept a close eye on the shadows, expecting assassins. "He will not be pleased that we got our information for free. He gave me the impression of the type who will willingly send an assassin after the fact."

Ronon looked down at her. "Are you sorry you came with me?" His voice was soft, eyes concerned.

Teyla thought a moment of all that she had left behind. There were responsibilities, her friends, the guarantee of a warm bath and comfortable bed every night – well, nearly every night. With Ronon, it was one unpredictable adventure after another. Already she had bathed in a cold stream and slept under the stars so many times she'd lost count.

But she knew without a single doubt she would not trade this exciting journey for anything.

She smiled up at her tall companion with warmth and sincerity. "No, I am not." Hesitantly, she reached out a hand and linked her fingers with his. "There is nowhere else in this galaxy I would rather be."

Ronon's large hand engulfed her smaller one with warmth and security. He smiled; his face and eyes lit up, giving him an entirely different look. She had not seen him smile, especially like that, in far too long. "Thank you, Teyla. For – for everything."

She lowered her head slightly, embarrassed. "We are in this together."

Ronon let go of her hand so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders. With his free hand, he dialed the portal that would take them back to the planet where they had set up a temporary home. "Yes, we are."

They stepped through the Stargate, their journey just having begun.

_-To Be Continued-_

_**I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and the next should be up soon!**_


	2. Haunted

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warning, pairings, etc.

Part 2/?

**-Chapter 1-**

_Haunted_

The first brushes of pink and purple lightened the horizon as Teyla stepped out of the cave she now called home. Pulling her coat on over her pants and shirt, she padded barefoot across the dew-washed grass to the edge of the cliff. She stood for a moment admiring the view before sitting down and leaning back against a large, smooth rock. Early morning had always been her favorite part of the day. There was just something about watching the sun rise that filled her with a renewed sense of being alive, and a fervor for her work.

Teyla leaned her head back against the rock and closed her eyes, concentrating on the early-morning sounds that had become so familiar over the past month. Birds chirped and sang from their leafy perches; from deeper in the woods came the sound of the brook washing over rocks; the last howls and hoots of night animals grew distant, then faded completely. She continued to listen to the chorus, her concentration easily flowing from one sound to the next.

She knew Ronon was there before she heard the scuff of shoe against rock. "Good morning, Ronon." She slowly allowed her eyes to drift open. It was still mostly dark, but her eyes were adjusted to the little existing light. She could just discern the outline of his body as he moved closer.

Ronon sat down next to her, his shoulder brushing against hers. "Morning. You're up early again." He turned his head to gaze off toward the horizon. "It's going to be another beautiful sunrise."

Teyla had come to look forward to mornings on this planet, with Ronon. "Yes, it is." She curled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "I love this planet. I am glad you knew of it."

She could not see him, but somehow she knew he was smiling again. "Me too." He leaned forward a little, and she swallowed hard when his arm brushed hers again. "I'm surprised you're not still in bed."

Teyla continued to watch the shifting colors heralding the sunrise. "I could not sleep. Last night brought too many things for me to think about."

Ronon sighed. "I know how you feel. I don't suppose I could talk you into staying here while I go check out Belsa?"

She smiled at the horizon, knowing Ronon couldn't see it. "No more than you talked me out of accompanying you to Kvash."

Frustration was obvious in Ronon's voice when he responded. "I had a feeling." They continued to watch the sunrise in silence for a few comfortable minutes. Then, "D'you miss Atlantis, sometimes?"

Teyla turned to face Ronon. She had been expecting that question; she was just surprised it had taken him this long to ask her. "Sometimes. What about you?"

Ronon gazed steadily at her, torn emotions in his eyes. "Sometimes. I can't say what I really miss the most. There's a lot that I don't. Too much noise, so many people – they all were so ordered, thought everything out first. There was no spontaneity." The corner of his mouth tilted upwards a little. "I suppose I miss the gym the most. We never spar anymore."

She wished she dared tell him it was this she missed most, as well. "We will have to find time for that soon." She thought back to the gym, bathed in a rainbow of colors by sunlight filtering in through the beautiful stained glass windows. The room was another glowing example of the Ancestral city's lavishness, with its soaring towers and graceful design. Someday they would both go back. Today, however, was not that day. "But first, we must take care of business."

He turned back to her, eyes tired. "Yeah. Business first." He sounded resigned.

By now the sun was up. Ronon shot one last glance to the horizon, as if trying to hold on to their early-morning peace for a moment longer. Then he sighed, his muscular shoulders lifting and then lowering. "No. Breakfast first." He scrambled to his feet and then reached a hand back down towards her. "Then business."

Teyla allowed the smile tickling her lips to bloom. She reached up and took Ronon's hand. He tugged her to her feet. "Agreed."

As they companionably walked back to the cave they called home, Teyla resisted the urge to look over her shoulder toward the horizon. For some reason, she felt that she would later need to call upon the memory of this early-morning calm.

**-Belsa-**

Belsa was the direct opposite of Kvash in almost every way. The latter was dark, crowded, and dirty; the former full of spacious buildings and happy, friendly people. Thousands of lights along the street made it seem like the middle of the day. Merchants lined the avenue, calling out the benefits of their wares and the matching prices. Customers gathered around, laughing and trading as they ignored the two strangers making their way through their midst. Apparently the people of Belsa never slept.

Ronon kept his head down, his long dreadlocks hiding his face. Teyla knew he did not feel comfortable in crowded places; his mood had definitely darkened since they'd left home. For the first time in almost two years he'd be coming face-to-face with one of his people, and he was not looking forward to the encounter. He had long ago said that Atlantis was his home now, and her people his.

Teyla never disputed him.

People flowed around them like a rainbow-colored sea; the noises and smells and sights assaulted their senses. Despite all the chaos, Teyla still found it somehow – beautiful. This world pulsed with life, a beacon of hope in the Pegasus galaxy. Not every world was catastrophically ravaged by the Wraith; Belsa was proof of this. Just being here made her feel encouraged.

Ronon and Teyla passed the limits of the city, and with it the lights. The lamps were now few and far between; the streets nearly deserted. Stars could now be seen blanketing the sky. The sounds of the market faded into the distance and then disappeared altogether. Now it seemed like they were on a completely different world.

Her companion touched her shoulder and motioned to a small house. "That's it. You ready for this?"

Teyla tipped her head to the side and attempted a smile. "I am not the one to whom you should address that question."

Ronon's eyes flickered darker for a moment, then he sighed again. "You're right. I suppose I'm ready." His hand brushed hers, held and squeezed, then released. He drew his powerful shoulders back, lifting his head. He crossed the expanse between where they'd paused and the door in three determined strides; hesitated only a moment before knocking firmly and loudly.

Teyla stayed behind him. She shifted only a little so she could see past Ronon's arm when someone finally answered the hail.

Abruptly the door swung open. Dim yellow light spilled from inside as if fleeing.

"Dex. It has been a long time." The man in the doorway's voice was rough, as rough as he looked. Teyla actually saw more similarities between this man and the one that she and Ronon had dealt with the night before, than between him and Ronon. The only thing she could see in common between this man and Ronon was the black Satedan army tattoo on the left side of his neck. Other than that, they could have been from two very different worlds.

The fact was not comforting.

Only Teyla could see the way Ronon's shoulders twitched ever-so-slightly beneath his coat. "So it has. How is life treating you, Kartos?"

A gravelly laugh pierced the air. "Drop the formalities; you and I both know you don't want to be here." He stepped back and opened the door wider. "Come in, and bring your lady friend with you."

Teyla saw Ronon's hand reflexively jerk a little closer to his blaster at Kartos' words. She briefly brushed gentle fingers against his arm as she followed him in, coolly ignoring the appraising – then approving – look Kartos gave her.

"Where is he?" Ronon was obviously not interested in any more talk. His body language shouted hostility; anger smoldered in his eyes.

A distant part of Teyla's mind whispered he was a fuse just waiting for a lit match. The thought made her swallow hard and hope for a quick meeting. She wasn't sure her nerves could take another scene like she'd faced the night before.

Kartos arched an eyebrow and tipped his head. "This way. Follow me."

_Not another back room._ Teyla was getting thoroughly tired both of dimly-lit back rooms, and the nefarious types they inevitably held.

Instead of a curtain this time, it was another door that opened to admit Ronon and Teyla. Kartos mumbled something about drinks and then disappeared, shutting the door behind him.

Teyla half-expected to hear the click of a lock; she relaxed just a little when she didn't. Next to her, Ronon was scanning the room for Larson Gathos. Teyla followed his gaze, quietly noting the placement of each piece of furniture in the room. She needed to know should they have to make a quick getaway. That was a necessity that had developed since they'd left Atlantis; the motion came as second nature to her now.

"So you're Ronon Dex." A low, sarcastic chuckle rumbled from the one dark corner in the room. "I've heard a lot about you."

_That voice. . ._ Familiarity crawled along the base of her neck, eliciting a shiver. _It can't be,_ she told herself firmly. But that did not stop dread from forming a pit in her stomach.

"Larson Gathos. We've been looking for you a while. Seems like you're a hard man to find. You don't even exist on most worlds." Ronon's voice dripped acid.

Another chuckle. "But _you're_ very well known. Wraith-slayer, Wraith-bringer – you have many names on the thousands of worlds in this galaxy. Some hail you as a hero – like _most_ of your people – and some would just as soon kill you as look at you." That voice dripped with smarmy superiority; it was obvious he knew _just_ where to strike. "Like me."

Teyla had to grasp Ronon's arm with all her strength to keep him from pouncing on his insulter. "What is your point?" she questioned. Ice lined her tone.

The sharp thud of two chair legs hitting the ground was followed directly by a movement in the shadows. "Teyla Emmagan, daughter of Tagan. Athosian; leader of her people."

She forced herself not to grimace as she felt the muscles in Ronon's arm tense even more beneath her hands. "I am."

The shadow moved again, but not enough to where the light could illuminate him. "The Council said you'd never make it. You needed someone else to help you."

Teyla could feel a familiar hostility in the gaze Larson had pinned on her. Her mind reeled; her emotions went into overload. _Ancestors, no. Please no. Not him._

When he spoke again, no doubt was left in her mind. "Someone like me. You recognize me now, don't you, Teyla?" Another two steps forward brought him within the range of the lights.

For a moment Teyla stared into the evil face that had haunted her dreams for years. The face she had finally managed to forget. The face of the man who had betrayed both her and her people.

"Garros!" She screamed the name, ready to lunge forward and take the man by the throat. Ronon, however, moved faster. He got his arms around her waist before she could launch herself. "You Wraithspawn! Betrayer!" She struggled against Ronon, trying to break loose. Red hazed over her vision, the instinct to kill making her wild. But it was pointless.

Garros smiled superiorly. "Welcome, my betrothed."

_-To Be Continued-_

_**Okay, I know I am going to be **_**so**_** dead after that, lol. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the next should be up soon!**_

**StarSkimmer**: Thank you! I'm really glad that you liked the prologue, and the Ronon/Teyla interaction, I always love writing them together. Here's the update, sorry it took me a little while. Thank you so much for the review, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter!

**Alex**: I'm really glad that you like this story! I hope this chapter answered some of your questions. I promise more and more will be explained as the fic goes on. Thank you so much for your review, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter!

**Hannah 554**: Yay! Thank you! I'm really glad that you liked the Ronon/Teyla in the last chapter, there's more in the beginning of this one. Here's the update, I'm sorry it took me a little while. Thank you so much for the review, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter!

**AthosionWarrior**: Thank you! Here's the update, sorry it took me a little while. There's more Teyla in this chapter – including something from her past. Also more Teyla to come in the next few chapters. Thank you so much for your review, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter!


	3. Heartache

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 3/?

**-Chapter 2-**

_Heartache_

"_Betrothed_?" Teyla spat the word back at Garros. "I am not your _betrothed_!" Disgust shuddered through her.

Ronon's arms loosened from around her. "He – _betrothed_?" He sounded shocked. Hurt.

Garros laughed again. "That is not how I remember it. The Council promised us to each other. We are bound by Athosian law, so you are still my betrothed."

Teyla tore herself free from Ronon to leap across the room. She grabbed the front of Garros' jacket and slammed him back into the wall. His head hit the surface with a sickening thud. "_I_ am still bound by law!" she hissed. "_You_ gave up that right when you _betrayed _me!" She knocked him against the wall again. "Just like you gave up the right _ever_ to call me yours."

Roughly pushing her away from him, Garros shrugged his jacket back onto his shoulders and swiped at his mouth with the back of his hand; a nervous gesture. "By law when promised to someone you cannot marry anyone except him to whom you are pledged." His eyes slid past Teyla's shoulder to Ronon. "Perhaps you have lied to your people _and_ him?"

She started for Garros again, but was stopped by Ronon suddenly shouldering in front of her. Teeth bared and eyes murderous, he aimed his weapon at Garros's head and growled, "I think the only one here lying is _you_."

Ronon's action gave Teyla time and motive to regain control of herself. She reached out and grasped Ronon's arm. It felt, through the sleeve of his coat, as if fashioned of metal. "Do not," she warned. "Please." Garros didn't matter to her – Ronon did. Without him, there was no way they would be able to complete the mission they had undertaken.

_That is not the only reason,_ her mind whispered. But she ignored it.

Garros's gaze moved from the weapon aimed at his head, to the man holding it, to Teyla. His self-satisfied smirk had returned. He didn't have to say anything: Teyla knew exactly what he was thinking. _They needed him – alive._

Gritting her teeth in frustration, Teyla latched onto Ronon's arm with both hands and pulled with all her strength, dragging him with her toward the door. She reciprocated Garros's silence. Even though she and Ronon would _have_ to return eventually, all three of them needed time to sort things out and let their tempers cool. And, somehow, she had to make things right with Ronon.

_How am I ever going to explain this?_

**-M54T37-**

Teyla sat across the campfire from Ronon, sipping carefully at her tea, trying to watch the flames and regain a measure of calm. However, her eyes kept moving irresistibly to her silent, angry companion. Finally giving up the effort, she just sat and watched him refuse to look at her – and waited.

Her mug had been empty for a long time before Ronon spoke. "Is it true?" He still wouldn't look at her. He just went on staring down into the fire, his face mostly hidden by his dreadlocks.

"In a way." Not a very good answer, but it was the truth nevertheless.

Ronon did look up at that. "What's that mean?" His voice was low, rough; his eyes – his beautiful eyes – now reflected only bewilderment and pain. His shoulders had a weary slump she had never seen before. He looked – beaten.

With great precision, Teyla set her empty cup down by her feet. Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her knees. "It means there is some truth in what he said. I confess, I – do not like to be reminded of it."

Ronon did not look cheered.

Teyla clenched her hands together and drew a deep breath. This was hard, so hard; she could scarcely believe how _recent_ it all still felt. "I was only seventeen when my father was taken by the Wraith," she began. "The Council did not believe me old enough and wise enough to be their leader. However, they said they would grant me leadership if I became betrothed to the man of their choosing – to be married at eighteen years of age, as is appropriate." Teyla looked down at her folded hands, very acutely aware of Ronon's dark gaze on her. "Garros was – highly regarded by all my people as a skilled trader, a canny fighter. I agreed _before_ I learned what kind of a man Garros truly was. He had me, the Council, the Athosian people fooled into believing what he wanted us to believe. It was only very gradually that I began to realize he was not the admirable person he claimed to be. The knowledge was – very bitter." She paused, not willing even now to be any more specific about the causes of her disillusionment.

Some brief emotion flickered rampantly through Ronon's eyes, then vanished. Teyla had a feeling she knew what it had been; if that were the case, she wasn't sure they should return to Belsa the next day. Even though it _was_ necessary they do so.

She resumed her narrative, having to struggle now to keep her voice even and uninflected. "It was less than a month from my eighteenth birthday, and our binding ceremony. I knew the burdens, the responsibilities I was about to take on would be tremendous; I was – concerned whether I could be a worthy successor to my father. On that particular night, I could not sleep. So I left my tent and went for a walk. Even though it was night and no one was supposed to walk in the woods after dark, I went in. Something seemed to be beckoning me; an inner sense warning me something was not right." She closed her eyes; gritted her teeth against the intensity of the memory, reliving it now. Her breathing quickened. "I found Garros near the cave where I used to play when a mere child. He was very – sullen. When I asked him what was wrong, he would not tell me, but instead became very agitated, even angry. He told me not to be so interfering, to go back home and be silent like a proper woman should." A wry smile twisted Teyla's lips. "I did not take kindly to his suggestion. But it was then all my bad feelings made sense, and I _knew_."

She was shivering now, feeling again the shock, the horror. Only the need of the man across the campfire to have the complete truth gave her the strength to finish.

"I walked past him, into the cave. I found another of my people, dead – Garros had killed him. And the cave held other things. . . He and my _betrothed_ had been using the Athosian trade network to sell other commodities. _Illegal_ commodities. They wanted profit for their own selves, regardless of the lives they wrecked and destroyed to get it. Garros – he knew I would be the next leader of the Athosians. _He_ wanted that position, so he would not have to be so careful about his activities. He killed Hahno – so he would get all the profit, not just half." Her voice went hard and cold, just as her heart had then. "He told me he had an 'accident' already arranged to get rid of me after we were wed. But when I found him with Hahno and discovered what they had been doing, he decided to take care of me then."

Teyla made herself open her eyes. A muscle in Ronon's jaw was twitching spasmodically. His eyes blazed with anger.

"To this day it remains one of the most difficult battles I have ever fought. I was not quite eighteen; he was twenty-three. He had been training much longer than I, and was much stronger." She rotated her arm, allowing the firelight to shine on a thin, silvery mark on her left bicep. "This is the only physical remnant of our battle. But it has taken me a long time to learn to ignore it." She shook her hair back from her face. "There is little left to tell. Garros was cast out of the tribe and banished from Athos for his crimes. The Council dissolved our betrothal and confirmed me as leader, and a free woman. He cannot truly believe we are still betrothed. Perhaps his insistence is merely an – insane – attempt to get back at me."

Ronon's gaze shifted from her face to the scar on her arm, back again. His eyes were dark, intense – dangerous. Yet they also held a deep sadness, a grief he couldn't quite hide.

Still without speaking, he moved around the intervening campfire: suddenly, lithely, the movement almost too quick to be human. Teyla almost flinched in surprise. For a long moment, he knelt in front of her, simply staring up into her eyes. Then his gaze dropped to her arm, and he slowly raised his right hand to hover about an inch away from her skin. His eyes locked onto hers once more, as though asking permission before he touched her.

She instinctively swallowed against the pounding of her heart in her throat, and wondered if all her emotions were laid bare in her eyes for him to see. Slowly, she nodded – once up, once down. He extended his hand the tiny bit needed to close the gap.

It was the barest brush of warmth across the scar; but it went through her like a jolt of lightning. Her heart jerked and her breath caught. The night whirled and spun around her, as every suppressed emotion inside her suddenly battled for release from behind the dam she had carefully built to contain them so long ago.

Suddenly – irrationally – he meant _more_ to her, when he shouldn't. She realized she'd been forcing herself to see him as a comrade, a teammate, denying any deeper bond. That wasn't possible any longer. She looked into his eyes, afraid of what she'd see. Or, maybe, afraid of what she _wouldn't_ see.

Ronon's eyes were green – intense, dark, _very_ green. She feared she could easily lose herself in their depths. They held each other's gaze for a moment that stretched out intolerably long.

A twig snapped in the fire. Ronon erupted into motion again, so suddenly Teyla jumped and gasped. In one catlike, quiet movement he was on his feet, striding away from her into the woods. His shoulders were stiff, back straight. She could _feel_ the tension in him, even from this rapidly expanding distance.

Teyla shuddered and collapsed, falling bonelessly off her log bench. Allowing herself to sag onto her side, she curled into a fetal position and stared sightlessly at the fire.

They both struggled with the same thing; she had seen it in his eyes. Things had changed between them. And neither of them knew how to deal with it. Teyla felt the slow trickle of tears down her cheeks.

She had probably just lost her best friend.

—Ronon did not return for the rest of the night.

_-To Be Continued-_

_**Please don't hurt me! Sorry it was a bit of a wait for this chapter, I hope to have the next one up sooner. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_

**SpaceMonkey0941**: Oops. Sorry? I've had that cliffhanger in my head for a while and had a feeling I was gonna be in major big trouble when I finally did write it. Apparently I'm right. I'm really glad you like this fic – I'm having a blast writing it! Sorry it took me a while to update – I'm hoping the next one will be sooner. Thank you much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! -hugs-

**Hannah 554**: Sorry! I'd had that cliffie in my head for a while and had a feeling I'd be in trouble when I wrote it. I'm really glad that you liked the Ronon/Teyla scene at the beginning, it was my favorite to write. The explanation with Garros and Teyla is in this chapter – sorry for the wait. Thank you much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**StarSkimmer**: I'm sorry? Please don't send the Steve plushie of doom after me! I am so sorry that it's taken me a while to get this updated, I'm hoping that the next one won't be nearly as long. This chapter has the explanation for Teyla and Garros. Thank you much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**alex**: I'm really glad that you enjoyed the last chapter, and I do apologize for the evil cliffie. I'm sorry it took a while for me to get this updated; I'm hoping the next one won't be nearly as long a wait. The explanation for Teyla and Garros is in this chapter. Thank you much for the review, and I hope you enjoy!

**Elfvamp1-13-97**: I really like your penname! I love Ronon/Teyla fics, too – they're my favorite couple. I'm sorry it took me a little while with this update; I'm hoping that the next will be sooner. Thank you so much for the review, and I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter!


	4. Summons

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 4/?

**Author's note**: I really owe my best friend leadfingers a big thank-you for this chapter. I offered to be guinea pig while she did to me what Ronon does to Teyla at the end of this chapter – and it looked way cool. So here's a shout-out to leadfingers – thanks for the drawing and for letting me watch you do it so I'd know how!

**-Chapter 3-**

_Summons_

Cold pressed eager, icy fingers into her skin, poking her toward awareness. Teyla shivered uncontrollably in response and curled her body tighter, mumbling in irritation as she tried to escape. Her nose and lips were numb, while her cheeks felt as though ice crystals had made homes there.

Lethargy clung to her like a skintight blanket. It took too much effort to open her eyes, so after the first attempt she didn't even try. She mumbled again; drifted back towards the welcoming arms of sleep. It did not matter that her bed felt like a bumpy rock, nor that the cold was leaching all heat from her body. She just wanted to sleep, to escape from – from –_ What was it?_ Her brain refused to function properly and offer her the information.

A voice savagely whispered something in a language she did not understand. Based on the inflection of the tone, she was pretty sure it was invective. "Do not swear," she muttered automatically, only half-conscious of her words.

"Teyla, what have you done to yourself?" The voice – low, rough, and exasperated – sounded close. Strong, warm things – arms, maybe? – wrapped around her and lifted her from her hard, cold bed.

She whimpered and clung, protesting the movement that triggered a painful pounding behind her eyes. "Put me _down_!" she grumped into the rough fabric her face was pressed against. And, just in case she hadn't gotten her point across, she added, "Now!" Her voice cracked pitifully, ruining the impression of authority.

Someone sat Teyla down with a thump on something round and a little tipsy. Seconds later something warm and heavy draped over her shoulders. Greedily, she forced her chilled fingers to grasp it and wrap it tighter around her, craving more of its welcome warmth. She finally forced her eyes open.

Ronon knelt next to the fire, which, with no one to feed it, had gone out overnight. He was trying to get it restarted; Teyla felt certain his dark scowl would be more than sufficient to start the flame once he had the kindling arranged. Her brow puckered as she noticed he was suspiciously coatless. She glanced down at herself. Oh: so _that_ was why this thing was already warm.

As Teyla's brain slowly shook off the effects of the cold, she noticed she was sitting on the log bench, which explained its tippiness every time she moved. And as for her cold-stiffened muscles – it was very early morning, and evidently she'd slept outside all night in a sleeveless top.

The memory of _why_ she had done such a thing came crashing back down over her. _Garros. Was it so wrong of me to hope that someone had betrayed and killed him during all these years?_

Ronon finally got the fire going. For a minute he just sat there on his knees staring at the flames, looking quite angry. Seeming to feel her gaze on him, he twisted his upper body to look at her. The anger faded from his eyes, leaving him looking tired and sad.

Teyla lowered her eyes and pulled his coat a little tighter around her shoulders. Apparently the awkwardness between them had survived the night. "Thank you, for—" She poked one hand out of the warmth of his coat to motion to it and the fire.

His eyes flickered slightly, but the expression on his face didn't change. "Why'd you do it, Teyla? You could've frozen to death out here. That's why we set up in the cave."

"_You_ made it." She winced a little as soon as she heard her own words. She hadn't meant to sound quite so confrontational.

That sullen anger came back. He turned away. "_I_ had a coat – and common sense." His words lashed back at her with identical intensity.

She wanted to cry. Again. Instead, she bit her lip and said softly: "I am sorry. I just – when you ran off, I—" a few breaths steadied her voice "—I was confused. And more than a little afraid you were not going to come back."

This time he turned his entire body to face her. His expression and eyes softened a little. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't?"

Teyla shrugged and looked away. She didn't want to admit anything else – things were already strained enough between them.

"Hey, look at me." Ronon leaned in a little closer and hooked two fingers under her chin. He applied gentle pressure to make sure she did as he asked.

Very reluctantly, she allowed her head to turn.

"It was stupid of me to go running off like that. I just needed some time to think." He let her go, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I didn't mean to be away all night. Guess I had more to think about than I thought I did." He drew in a deep breath; let it out in a noisy gush. "Look, Teyla, we need to talk about this."

Somehow, Teyla managed to dredge up a little smile. Now she was beginning to thaw, it was easier. "You? Talking?"

Ronon's entire expression changed, and he laughed. His eyes glittered at her in a way much better than his coat at warming her – on the inside, at least.

_When he laughs, he looks like a totally different person._ Teyla pushed that forbidden thought away.

"I guess I don't do much of that, do I?" Ronon asked when he finally stopped laughing. He glanced over his shoulder at the fire, then turned back to her. "Okay, tell you what. I'll make us some tea and breakfast; then we'll talk. Okay?"

Teyla nodded. "Okay." She started to shrug off his coat. "I should help, and you need this back."

Ronon reached out and grasped her wrist to prevent her. "No, you keep it. And _I'll_ handle breakfast." With a lithe ease and almost feline gracefulness, he got to his feet and set about warming water for tea.

She smiled at the familiar, almost absurd domesticity of the scene. For some reason, this seemed _normal_, in a warped kind of way. She thought she could even get used to it.

Teyla drew in a deep breath, ready to ward off the pain inevitably accompanying that thought. But for some weird reason, this time the thought actually comforted her. Perhaps, she reflected wryly, it was the effects of the cold on her mind.

Ronon crouched down in front of her, and handed her a mug. "Just hold it for now, it'll help warm your hands," he said as she took it. "Don't try to drink it. It's still too hot." He went off again.

He was right; the warmth felt good as it loosened the stiff muscles in her fingers. She held the cup directly under her chin, allowing the steam to drift up and warm her face as well. While a hot bath and warm bed would be preferable, this was an acceptable substitute.

In short order, the scene came to mirror the one from the night before. Ronon and Teyla once again sat on opposite sides of the fire, eating their food in contemplative silence. The difference this time was the warm blanket of friendship wrapping them both.

Finally Ronon set aside his empty cup and looked at her. "Done?"

Teyla swallowed the last of her tea and nodded, thoroughly warmed inside and out. "Yes. Thank you."

Ronon smiled again. "I noticed you didn't say it was good. Am I that awful of a cook?"

She laughed a little. "I do not think it is your cooking skills, or lack thereof. There is just not much you can do with month-old MREs and leftover venison."

Ronon made a face. "True." He set aside his cup, and opened his mouth to speak.

Teyla straightened and held up a hand. "Sh. Did you hear that?" She reached for the weapon in the holster at her hip, suddenly wishing she were safe at home on Atlantis. However, the thought was short-lived; she mentally slapped herself for it.

Ronon was across the fire and crouching next to her in the span of a blink. Teyla couldn't help but notice how he'd positioned his body between her and the woods. His weapon was in hand; beyond his shoulder she could see it was set to stun.

"Show yourself!" When Ronon called, his voice was thunderous, commanding. It echoed hollowly off the cliff behind them, which amplified the sound and propelled it out through the trees.

The whole place came alive as the birds shrieked and took flight. Ground animals, small and large alike, darted off, startled out of whatever they'd been doing. The cacophony swelled and faded in the span of a few seconds; then all was quiet again except for the last echoes of Ronon's yell.

At last even that faded out, allowing a much smaller voice to respond and be heard. "Do not shoot. I am coming out."

Ronon didn't relax his stance as he stared unblinkingly at the figure who came out of the woods, hands raised. There was a weapon in the holster at his hip; but it was obvious he had no intention of using it – for the moment.

"What's your business here?" He inclined his head towards Teyla. "You interrupted our breakfast."

Their visitor only looked slightly apologetic. "Forgive the intrusion. Master Gathos sent me. Your presence is requested as soon as possible."

"Why?" Ronon looked disinclined to go _anywhere_.

"Just come as soon as possible. There have been some – developments. A meeting has been called, and you have been summoned." The man bowed a little and turned, fleeing back into the woods. The animals screeched and scurried again, protesting the new interruption.

"Stay here and stay alert." On the whisper, Ronon slipped off, leaving her alone. A few minutes later he was back, weapon holstered. "He's gone." The Satedan sat down across the fire and dragged his hands down his face. "Do we trust him? I don't exactly think it's a positive sign he knows where we're staying."

Teyla shrugged and kicked a small branch into the fire. "We both know we need him, his _organization_, and his information. Whether we trust him or not is irrelevant."

Ronon arched an eyebrow. "How d'you figure that?"

"Either way this is an insane gamble. We knew that when we left Atlantis. We also knew there was a very good chance neither of us would live to go back. We accepted that risk. So, looking at it that way, what does it matter if we wind up dead in the war, or by the hand of Garros himself. At this point it hardly seems worth the effort to weigh the odds – or take the risk of not concluding our mission."

Indecision burned in Ronon's eyes. "I don't want to go back," he admitted. "Not after what you told me about _him_. But still, I know you're right and I _hate_ it." His hands clenched. "Right now all I want to do is murder the guy." He paused and looked up at her, gaze apologetic. "I'm sorry."

Teyla squared her shoulders and lifted her head. "Do not be. I wish to do the same." She stood and held out Ronon's coat. "Here. I need to get ready to go."

Ronon caught her arm, holding her back and studying her for a moment through narrowed eyes. He swept her hair back from her neck and mumbled something. "Yes. Go get dressed – and wear your hair up off your neck."

She took two steps back. "Why?" It wasn't that she didn't trust Ronon: she just didn't like surprises. Or the gleam in his eyes.

"Trust me. Go."

Teyla hurried through her cold-water bath, but took as long as she could to change clothes. This day was bidding fair to turn out as rotten as the one before, and she was in no mood to help it along any faster than it was already proceeding.

Ronon was waiting for her when she exited the cave. "Finally. Come sit." He motioned to the spot on the bench next to him, on his right.

Teyla didn't budge. "Why?"

He held up the small bowl of black liquid in his left hand. "You're going to be a Satedan now." Ronon motioned to the tattoo on his neck, then waved a hand at her.

Hesitant and curious at the same time, Teyla sat down in the requested spot. "Garros will know I am Athosian, not Satedan."

Ronon growled a little. "If he knows what's good for him he'll stay quiet. Besides, I don't think it'll be to his advantage to blow our cover." He hesitated. "Look, most of the warriors there are going to be Satedan. You have to understand, most of them are – how do I say this? – _unwelcoming_ toward women as warriors. In _their_ opinion, women are supposed to be healers, cooks, cleaners. _Not_ fighters." He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. "It was bad enough on Sateda. Once the Wraith destroyed it, and Kell and his band got their organization going, the mindset went downhill really, really fast. And I seriously doubt most of the others will be any more welcoming." He shook his head. "I'm just glad Solen warned me. Otherwise I don't want to _think_ about what would happen."

Teyla bristled. "I can take care of myself."

"Hold still." Ronon was already at work on her neck, dipping a thin reed into the black liquid, then touching it to her skin. "I know you can. I'm just doing this as a precaution. If they think you're Satedan and—" he hesitated, pulled away the reed, and looked down in some embarrassment, "—_with me_, it'll give us enough of a chance to blend in until they get to know you." He looked up and smiled. "If anyone can change their views, it's you."

Teyla blinked a little at the obvious admiration in his eyes. "Thank you – I think."

Ronon made a noncommittal sound as he went back to work faking her tattoo. "Don't move for another minute. I'm almost done." He muttered something and leaned back a little. She felt awkward under his intense scrutiny. "There. I think that does it. Don't touch it until it has a chance to dry."

Teyla clenched her hands into fists to help her resist the urge. "What is this stuff?" It felt cold against her neck.

He set aside the bowl and reed. "A mixture of plants and herbs similar to what we have on Sateda."

She was shocked. "Are you saying this is permanent?" In a way the thought intrigued and dismayed her.

Ronon shook his head. "No, not _permanent._ Well, at least not yet. It'll take about a month to fade, if I don't go over it again to darken it. Eventually, if the stain is applied often enough, yeah, it works its way in deep enough so it'll be permanent." He leaned forward a little and blew on her neck.

She shivered. "Is it dry?" For some reason, this whole thing unnerved her.

He leaned back a little and gingerly touched a finger to her neck. "Yeah." He got to his feet, holding out a hand to pull her up. "Come on, let's get this over with."

"Just a moment." Teyla leaned over to pick up her empty mug. She held it up and tilted her head toward the reflective metal surface, examining her neck. The tattoo stood out dark and black against her skin – there was no way anyone could miss it. The resemblance between it and Ronon's was astonishing – he had perfectly reproduced it.

Ronon took the cup and set it aside. "Come on, Teyla. Let's go."

She swallowed hard, throwing one last glance over her shoulder before following him.

She very much feared only bad things awaited them on the other side of that Stargate.

_-To Be Continued-_

_**So not quite as evil a cliffie as normal, but I figured we all needed a break, lol. I really hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and the next should be up soon!**_

**Hannah 554**: Poor Teyla was thinking the same thing, lol. And thank you! I've been working and tweaking Teyla's backstory for over a month now – I wanted a major surprise and major angst as well. I too want to kill Garros, but it's not time yet – I will promise that he will get what's coming to him. Eventually. The scene where Teyla pushed him into the wall was a lot of fun to write, I think I took _too much_ pleasure writing that one, lol. I'm really glad you liked the Ronon/Teyla moment at the end, I spent a lot of time worrying over that. Thanks for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Voice of 1000 thoughts**: Me too, honestly. I'm sorry this took a while to update, I've been reading a series of books I couldn't put down long enough to do writing of my own. I'm sorry! I'll try to update quicker with the next chapter. I'm really glad that you liked the last line, I've had it in my head for a while. Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Elfvamp1-13-97**: Sorry it's taken me a while to get this updated. I've been reading a series of books that I absolutely couldn't put down long enough to do my writing. I'll try to update quicker with the next chapter, promise. And I agree, Jason Momoa _is_ hot. My best friend had to push my jaw back up from where it dropped the first time I saw Ronon Dex in "Runner." I think I'm in love, lol. Here's the update, sorry again that it took so long. Thank you for the review, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter!

**StarSkimmer**: Thank you very much! -whew- I'm really glad you liked that last scene, I was tense all over writing it. Sorry it took me a while to get this updated, I've been reading a series of books that have had me riveted. I couldn't put them down long enough to do my own writing. But I promise that I'll do better with the next update. And thank you for the chocolate! (Seriously, I am eating chocolate right now! LOL) Here's the update, and I'm sorry again it took so long! Thanks for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!


	5. Storm

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 5/?

**-Chapter 4-**

_Storm_

Thunder rumbled over the hills as Ronon and Teyla made their way over the last steep knoll into the clearing. Boiling black clouds smothered the last light of dusk on the horizon; vivid flashes of white-hot lightning provided momentary illumination. The smell of rain carried heavily on the cold wind. Teyla inhaled the scent, glad she had worn her heavy coat this time.

Already the tall grassland was filled with people – the vast majority of which were men. Silence rippled across the crowd as Teyla and Ronon arrived; three hundred pairs of eyes stared curiously. Most of them were focused on Teyla.

Garros turned from where he'd been conversing with two men, both of whom looked particularly unfriendly. For a moment his cold black eyes met Teyla's and held; then they shifted to Ronon with distinct challenge. "Welcome back. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up."

Teyla felt Ronon twitch angrily. She briefly glanced up at him, noting his expression. _Challenge denied._ "If this mission of yours is going to have a prayer of succeeding, you will need all the warriors you can find." She bit back the other scathing insult hovering on the tip of her tongue – she would wait until a more opportune time to use that one.

Garros's left eye twitched unhappily. When he spoke again, it was obvious he had given up on trying to bait Ronon and Teyla – for the moment. "We're still waiting for a few people. Feel free to mingle." He abruptly turned his back and returned to his interrupted conversation.

Teyla did not feel the least bit insulted. She allowed Ronon to grasp her arm and lead her into the crowd. "Will the tattoo wash off if it rains?" she asked in a low voice.

Ronon shook his head. "Shouldn't." He hesitated; tipped his head to the side a little. "I hope." Worry flitted through his eyes, then was gone.

They made their way through the horde of people, looking for a familiar – or even just friendly – face. Ronon hovered unnaturally close to Teyla; both their gazes scanned for any signs of trouble. Definitely out of their comfort zones, they weren't going to take any chances.

A hand reached out and snatched at Ronon's coat, drawing him and vicariously Teyla away from the main crowd. "Finally! You're here."

In the brief bright flash of another lightning bolt, Teyla recognized Ronon's Satedan friend, Solen Sincha. "Nice to see you too, Solen," Ronon muttered from her right. Teyla nodded a little in agreement.

Solen looked at Ronon, then Teyla, then squinted at them both. Dimples appeared in his cheeks when he grinned, but he only said: "If you say so."

It was disturbingly reminiscent of Belkan. Teyla had no wish to revisit those particular memories, so she pushed them out of her mind. After all, she and Ronon still had not had a chance to discuss – _that_ matter.

Uproarious laughter blended with a thunderclap, then faded. Solen was speaking again. "—Found what you want?"

Ronon turned and easily looked over her head, his gaze drilling into Garros's back. "Not yet. We're still waiting for Gathos to call some kind of battle plan. We'll see what goes on from there."

Solen shrugged a little. "Figured as much." He looked off toward the horizon. "It's going to storm – in more ways than one, I think. Gathos says he plans to keep this short, but he's a windy guy. My guess is we're _not_ going to be able to avoid the storm."

"Why are we meeting out here?" Teyla decided to question the obvious.

Solen grinned again. "Belsa's main province is crowded. Out here—" he waved a vague hand around the clearing "—it's all open country. No one ever comes around here." He paused. "Well, no one that matters, anyway."

"We probably would have been better off on Kvash," Ronon muttered in an aside to Teyla. He still looked unpleasantly irked.

"Kvash?" Solen looked surprised. "Ancestors, don't tell me you've been _there_." He switched his gaze to Teyla, horrified. "And _survived_?"

Ronon grinned, just a little. "We like danger. Besides, what makes you think we can't take care of ourselves?"

"I feel sorry for anyone who crossed _your_ paths." Solen shook his head. "Well, I suppose that explains a few things."

Thunder rumbled even closer. "I think he is doing this deliberately," Teyla said bitterly. "He just wants to make us miserable."

"Spiteful," Ronon agreed. He looked worried again; his hand kept flicking toward his weapon.

"The messenger sent to retrieve us said there had been some _developments_," Teyla said. "Do you know what that means?"

Solen's grin disappeared. "There's been a lot of movement lately. We keep losing touch with more and more planets. It's like a scourge, equal to the time leading up to when the Ancestors left. People keep disappearing, entire _planets_ are being wiped out. Gathos seems to think it's time."

Ronon scoffed. "Time? It was time long ago. Just no one's been brave enough to try it."

"Fool enough is more like it," Solen said. He shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm here. Then I remember Sateda, and—" He slid a glance toward Ronon and winced. "Sorry."

Dex shrugged and scowled.

"Best I can figure, Gathos is biding his time, building up our forces. Then we're going to attack." Solen eyed them. "What I can't figure out is why you both are here."

Ronon and Teyla exchanged a loaded glance. They both trusted Solen unequivocally, but if the wrong people heard them—

They were saved from having to answer by Gathos yelling. "We're going to have to move quickly if we're going to get through before that storm hits."

_Then why did we not begin sooner?_ Teyla thought, but wisely held her tongue.

"Pair off and start sparring," Garros called. "For now, I just want to make sure you're all qualified for this job." He threaded his way through the crowd and paused next to Teyla and Ronon. "Not you two. Come with me." He slipped off again, calling to the two men he'd been conversing with earlier: "Keep a sharp eye out!"

Ronon grasped her arm and followed, always making sure he was between her and Garros. The trio pushed through the grass across the clearing, moving farther and farther away from the crowd. Two of them wondered what the other had planned, and were already at work planning a quick escape.

Just in case.

Garros stopped, so suddenly Ronon nearly tripped over him. For a moment the traitorous Athosian stared up at the darkening sky silently. When he did speak, his voice was hoarse. "Appropriate weather. Dark and stormy, like our enemy. Creeping ever closer, sweeping aside everything in its path. It leaves only death and destruction behind."

Oddly poetic words, from someone so black-hearted.

Garros shook his head at the sky; turned around to face Ronon and Teyla. His gaze shifted back and forth between them, studying their mistrustful expressions and stances. "I know you can fight," he said to Ronon. "Otherwise you would not have survived seven years as a Runner." He looked at Teyla, expression thoughtful. "You however—" He shrugged a little as he bent over to pick something up out of the grass. When he straightened, he was holding two Bantos rods. "We will have to see if your fighting abilities have improved since we last fought."

Teyla caught Ronon's arm, shaking her head when he started to take a threatening step forward. In truth, she had been waiting for this opportunity for many years – a chance to fight Garros again. This time, they would be on equal fighting ground. She had learned much from her people in the years following Garros's banishment; even more since Ronon came into her life. He had taught her more than anyone else; she knew all that training would pay off for her here.

As if in anticipation, a bitterly cold wind roared across the plain. It stung Teyla's cheeks and brought tears to her eyes, but she wouldn't back down from this fight. Not now that she had the chance for which she'd been yearning for so many years. Her fingers, still aching from the cold it she'd only recently begun to warm up from, gripped her Bantos rod harder. She could not lose this match – she _would_ not lose this match. Not to him.

Adrenaline began to pulse through her as Garros stepped back a little and shifted his rod from hand to hand. He was eyeing her, waiting for her to attack first while looking for any weak spots in her defense. He would soon find things much changed since the last time they battled.

Off to her left, Ronon watched silently, his stance still threatening. His eyes smoldered angrily as he kept his hand resting ready on his weapon. Teyla knew, though, he wouldn't use it unless she told him to. He trusted her, he knew her strength. She could feel his confidence bolstering hers, and that offered her additional determination.

Another streak of lightning raced horizontally across the sky directly overhead, briefly illuminating the clearing in a blue glow. Teyla felt she was seeing things clearer than she ever had before. Thunder followed directly on the heels of the lightning, a sound like the sky cracking open from where it had been split in half.

The rain and the fight began in the exact same instant.

Garros, impatient of waiting for her to attack first, took the incentive. His rod crashed against hers with an impact that painfully jarred the bones in her arm. Water sluiced over them like a waterfall. The wind relentlessly pounded the icy drops against any bare skin it could find.

Teyla ignored the stinging and stayed on the defensive, allowing Garros to hail down blows against her rod. She was willing to wait for him to expend his energy, to tire, before she attacked as well. She wanted to win this; but now she was into it she almost feared she wouldn't be able to control herself. How hot the desire for revenge burned within her. . .

Another thunderclap drowned out Garros's angry cry. He lunged at her again, rod swinging and arcing around her, trying to find a spot in her defense he could break through. When he found none, he switched his offense from brute force to speed, only to see each blow blocked by even faster motions from Teyla. She continued to watch, waiting for him to tire.

Garros's movements lacked the lithe fluidity and feline swiftness of Ronon's; he bungled three strikes and fluffed almost as many. By now he was trying to feint her out; fool her into believing he was going to attack when he wasn't, and vice-versa. But very few of his blows came anywhere near her; those that did merely grazed her.

With the clarity of vision and mind which had remained with her since that first lightning flash signaling the fight's beginning, Teyla saw the exact moment when the fight shifted in her favor. Garros stumbled on another lunge as his blow went wide and grazed her arm instead of impacting her side.

Twisting, Teyla used the momentum from her unneeded block to bring her rod down in a sharp blow to his shoulder. Garros staggered backward and cursed, scrambling to recover and regain the momentum of the match.

He moved too slowly. By the time he brought his rod up to block her next blow, she'd already landed two more. She feinted toward his head; reversed abruptly and swept her rod against the back of his knees. His feet flew out from beneath him, throwing him to the muddy ground.

Teyla pressed the tip of her rod to his Adam's apple, watching it throb as he swallowed uncomfortably. "You have learned much," he said, his voice a growl.

She looked at him from behind the screen of her wet hair, which hung in a stringy veil before her face. "And you have learned nothing," she responded. For a moment she held his gaze, her own vivid and so very triumphant.

Then she threw down her rod next to Garros's frozen form and walked away.

_-To Be Continued-_

_**Oh my, that was fun to write. LOL I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the next one should be up soon!**_

**louise**: I'm really glad that you like my fic! I agree, Ronon and Teyla are almost a perfect couple, I love writing them. Sorry it took me a little while to update, I was having a little bit of trouble with the last scene. It's okay, your English is great; and I love your name – it's my middle name! Thank you so much for your review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Hannah 554**: I'm really glad you loved the last chapter – I think it's my favorite so far to write. I had the warm fuzzies writing Ronon carrying Teyla and getting her warm again. Ronon and Teyla just have such a natural chemistry that I couldn't write them awkward for long! I especially enjoyed writing the tattoo part; my best friend is an artist and she used a ballpoint pen and a Sharpie to draw a tattoo on my neck. So I got to see how it was done, and had a Ronon tattoo for about a day! I'm really glad that you liked the tattoo part. I'm really glad that you love this fic, and I'm sorry it took me a little while to update. Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**StarSkimmer**: Thank you! I'm really glad you're enjoying this fic, it's my baby at the moment, lol. And I totally agree about Ronon and Teyla – total happiness! I'm always happy when I write or read about them, even when I'm writing or reading a sad or angry scene. I'm really glad that you like this fic, and I'm sorry it took me a little while to update. Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!


	6. Crimson

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 6/?

**-Chapter 5-**

_Crimson_

Teyla stripped off her wet clothes and pulled on dry ones as quickly as she could. She was chilled physically from the rain and wind on Belsa, but anger still burned hot within her. She vigorously towel-dried her hair; pulled on a dry pair of boots; grabbed a blanket and her brush; and headed outside.

Ronon had gotten a fire started while she was changing. He willingly traded places with her. She sat down by the fire while he went into the cave to change clothes and dry off.

She brushed the tangles from her hair, then pulled the blanket around her shoulders. This planet was warm, though not nearly warm enough to ease her chill. She wished for a cup of hot tea but didn't want to leave her cocoon to fix it.

Ronon exited the cave while pulling his dreads back to confine them away from his face. For a moment he stood at the threshold of the fire's warmth, gazing at her with an unreadable expression.

Finally Teyla couldn't take it anymore and looked away. "Are you mad at me?" she ventured. She didn't think she could handle it if he were. Too many things in her life caused anger and pain – Ronon was the single person who could heal her or break her.

Ronon sat down next to her without moving his gaze. "You won," he said simply, as if that explained everything. Perhaps it would, if he didn't need to know.

Teyla smiled sadly and pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders. "I feel like I did not. I did not want to control myself – I wanted to kill him. That scared me a little. I did not know I held such _dark_ thoughts within me." She shivered and closed her eyes.

Now he knew.

"Yes, but you controlled yourself. You beat him without killing him. I don't think I would've been able to show the same restraint in your place." Ronon wrapped an arm around her shoulders; strong, supportive, warm. "I'm always going to be here for you." He didn't have to say anything else. That was enough.

Now she knew.

Relief lifted a burden off her shoulders. Letting out a shaky breath, she turned her face into his shoulder. "Thank you, Ronon."

His other arm slipped around her; his chin came to a rest on the crown of her head. He wound his fingers into her still-damp hair as his other hand rubbed soothingly up and down her back, across her shoulders. He understood; his actions spoke far louder, and were more calming, than any words.

Teyla closed her eyes, melted into his comforting embrace, silently allowing him to hold her. For so long she'd had to be the strong leader, the example for everyone else to follow. Later, she'd had to be the person holding their team together, soothing ruffled feathers and ironing out disagreements. She had always felt a little alienated among the Atlantians, no matter how kind a few of them were to her. She was different from them. She followed a different set of rules, had grown up beneath the veil of a threat far more terrifying than some of them could even yet imagine. Eventually, she'd come to feel there was nowhere she could look for the solace and companionship she so longed to find.

Then she'd met Ronon Dex: a wild, untamable creature. Raised as a man of war, those instincts had been honed when the Wraith tried to bend him to their will as a Runner. Instead, they created a berserker who released his rage and insatiable desire for retribution upon the them in vengeance. He was rough; unsociable; seemingly constantly poised as if to flee at the slightest wrong move.

And something inside Teyla whispered _he_ was the one she had been waiting so long to discover. It seemed impossible, especially after she'd been hurt so many times in her life by people either being taken from her or betraying her. There were times after Ronon had come to Atlantis when she'd been sure he'd never readjust to living among people again without fear of bringing the Wraith upon them. His manners lacked considerably; he was still rough and unpredictable.

But then, one day, he began to change. It was subtle at first, a tiny smile aimed at her when she looked at him over her shoulder, or a wink when only they understood the joke. It lacked the feral quality that most of his smiles carried, his eyes alight with warmth. As time wore on, he started spending more time with her. She began to think of him as her silent, protective shadow. He followed her constantly; loomed close when danger threatened; and allowed her to share with him the simple joy of _living_ again. He opened up, smiling and laughing with the team – but even more with her.

Over the course of two years, his rough edges wore down a little, softening him towards her and life. The overwhelming bitterness he held when he first came to the city waned until Teyla saw him as he truly was: a warm, caring man, fiercely protective, passionate, perfect to her in every way. Finally, she'd found her kindred spirit; the person around whom she could just be herself.

But still a part of her warned her to be careful, to keep a distance between them. So she walled herself up, not allowing herself to see him as anything but a comrade and a friend.

Now she realized he had felt the same way about her. Love was a serious thing to him. He had lost one he cherished; didn't want to go through the same loss with her. Clarity struck. Suddenly she understood the ex-Runner more than she ever had before. No walls separated them anymore. At some point during this nightmare they had fallen away.

Tomorrow was uncertain. Today, however. . .

"I think I understand at last." She'd only entertained those thoughts for a few moments, but it felt like she finally _got_ something she'd been trying to comprehend for years.

She felt Ronon smile into her hair. His hand stilled on her back. "You know what? I think I do, too."

He tilted her chin up, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her.

Just like that, she was no longer cold.

**-M54T37-**

Teyla snuggled deeper into her sleeping bag and closed her eyes. _Sleep_, she told herself firmly. It had been a long, tiring, emotionally trying day. Tomorrow promised to be no better.

Across the cave, she heard Ronon settling into his own sleeping bag. He sighed, then said softly: "'Night, Teyla."

She turned her face into her pillow to hide her grin, though she knew he couldn't see it. "Good night, Ronon."

A few minutes later, his even breathing signaled sleep. Teyla wished she could escape to slumber so quickly; unfortunately her mind was determined to keep her awake. Thoughts – lovely, happy thoughts – spun in her mind, tantalizing her with hope. She had begun tearing down the walls around her heart now for Ronon, and she felt confident nothing he did would break the fragile thing they'd been protecting. Ronon was different.

After this was over, perhaps there would be a chance for them on Atlantis.

Teyla closed her eyes and sighed, determined to sleep. Firmly, she pushed all her new and wonderful thoughts to the back of her mind for consideration at a more opportune time. She drew in a deep breath; let it out, trying to relax all her muscles and her mind as she did so.

Lethargy crept up and wrapped around her. She smiled a little as she pulled her covers tighter around her shoulders, knowing her dreams would be good tonight.

She was in the fuzzy place between wakefulness and sleep when she heard something. The noise wasn't very loud at all; if she hadn't still been partially awake she would never have heard it. But there it was all the same.

Her mind ordered her to go see what it was, even if probably nothing more than an animal straying too close to camp; or the wind blowing through the grass. But her instinct – which hard experience had taught her to follow – told her to lie very still and sham asleep.

Through narrowed eyes, she watched the thin sliver of moonlight coming in through the mouth of the cave. The silver beam flickered, disappeared, then reappeared as though something had moved quickly in front of it.

Teyla held her breath, watching, listening, waiting.

The light flickered again and went out, but this time it stayed out. Darkness swallowed up the mouth of the cave; uneven breathing rasped against her ears – and her nerves. She swallowed, slowly and quietly moving her hand from beneath the covers to reach for her knife. Though, if this person had a gun, he could shoot from the mouth of the cave, and her knife would do her no good.

All trace of sleep had left her by now, her mind abuzz. If only she dared call out to wake Ronon. But any sudden sounds or moves could prove disastrous. She just had to wait this out and see what happened.

Finally the shadow moved; the sole of a shoe brushed against the cave floor and tapped a stone. Their midnight visitor paused, obviously listening to see if the slight noise had awakened his prey.

Ronon was still asleep, or trying to be as quiet as she. Teyla didn't move, trying to keep her breathing even. She only hoped the intruder couldn't hear her pounding heart.

Satisfied that all was well, the shadow crept forward again and paused directly between Teyla's sleeping bag and Ronon's. The moonlight had returned, throwing a shaft of light over their visitor's soft-soled shoes, designed for quiet.

_A professional assassin,_ Teyla thought. Her hand was almost to her knife, but she didn't dare move any more. The shadow was too close and might see or hear.

Fabric rustled; the shadow shifted just enough so the moonlight glittered off a shiny metal barrel. The assassin moved again, shifting the weapon back and forth between her and Ronon, as though picking his first target.

The barrel swung again – and Teyla leaped. Somehow she got her hands around the assassin's wrist, wrenching it upwards so the barrel pointed toward the ceiling. At almost the same moment she attacked, Ronon burst into action. With a deafening roar, he crashed against the assassin, knocking him sideways.

Teyla, still clinging to the shadow's wrist, was sent spinning. Her body impacted Ronon's just as the gun went off; a bright flash of red and yellow light was followed less than a second later by a deafening roar.

Ronon caught her, falling backwards as the assassin scrambled to his feet and bolted.

Heart still pounding, breathing erratic, Teyla turned her head toward Ronon.

He lay on his back, half on his sleeping bag, hands held up and tilted toward the moonlight trickling into the cave. The silver light glistened ruby-red off the slick liquid on Ronon's hands.

Blood.

_-To Be Continued-_

_**Another evil cliffie! I'm sorry! I'm so going to get it now, aren't I? lol I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the next should be up soon!**_

**Beasty bex**: Thank you so much! The fight scene was a lot of fun to write, so I'm really glad that you liked it and it was so realistic. Truthfully, I've had Teyla's last line in my head for a long time now and was waiting for just the right time to use it – I thought it fit there. I really did enjoy writing Teyla beating up on Garros, so I'm _really_ glad that part turned out right. I'm excited that you like my fic, thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Elfvamp1-13-97**: Thank you! I really enjoyed writing the last chapter, it was a lot of fun to write, especially the fight scene. We definitely haven't seen the end of the tattoo, it returns soon. I'm really glad that you loved the last chapter, thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**StarSkimmer**: The fight scene in the last chapter was so much fun to write – it was so awesome to have Teyla kick Garros's butt. I know how you feel – I _almost_ feel sorry for Garros myself, but only because he underestimated Teyla. I'm really glad that you liked the last chapter, and love this fic. -squee- Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Voice of 1000 thoughts**: I love the trust between them, too. Perhaps that's why they're my favorite TV couple. It's one of the many things I love writing about them, how they trust each other unconditionally. Sorry it took me a while for this update! Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**alex**: Thank you! I really enjoyed writing the fight scene in the last chapter, I think it's one of my favorite scenes in this whole fic so far, so I'm really glad that you liked it. Thank you so much for the review, and the two thumbs up! I hope you enjoy this chapter!


	7. Conviction

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 7/?

**-Chapter 6-**

_Conviction_

Teyla scrambled to her knees and leaned over Ronon. Her heart felt like it was trying to break free from her chest so it could stick in her throat. "Where were you hit?"

Ronon blinked a little, looking up at her. "Blood's not mine," he said softly, eyes wide.

As soon as he spoke, a vicious pain stabbed her arm. Teyla twisted the appendage and saw the trickle of red flowing freely from the inch-long slice on her right bicep. It stung fiercely, but she was sure the bullet had just grazed her. "Garros," she said through tightly-clenched teeth.

Ronon was already digging out the fully-supplied med kit they'd brought with them from Atlantis. Before, it had just been a precaution – now, it was a grim necessity.

Teyla reached for a sterile gauze pad and carefully swiped at the blood. "I should have known he would—"

Ronon knelt in front of her and pulled the pad away. "Teyla, be quiet and hold still, please? Let me see your arm."

Teyla shook her head, moving her arm out of his reach. "It is just a scratch. We need to follow that assassin. Maybe we can catch up with him before he gets to the Gate—"

"He's long gone by now. Give me your arm." Ronon's voice was gruff, but his touch was gentle as he took her arm and turned it toward the light of the flashlight he'd set on a pile of equipment. He silently used supplies from the med kit to clean and sterilize her arm before bandaging it.

Teyla sat quietly and allowed him to work, speaking only when he was done. "Thank you." How, she wondered, could everything between them have changed so quickly from contented to strained?

Ronon bent over the med kit, putting the unused equipment back and the rest aside for later disposal. He shrugged one shoulder in something she assumed to be an answer, but still didn't speak.

"Look at me." Teyla grasped Ronon's shoulder and tugged him around to face her. "It is my turn now. What is bothering you?"

Ronon shrugged off her hand, but didn't try to turn away again. "I knew this would happen, I knew eventually someone would catch up to us. I didn't take the precautions I should have. And now—" He hung his head. "Now you're hurt."

Teyla sat quietly and thought about that for a minute. She wasn't sure there was anything she could say that would make it better, for in a way he was right. They both knew the danger involved in what they were doing. They had taken a stupid chance in not looking out for it. They'd invited the threat in, and it had willingly accepted the open invitation.

Ronon was throwing things back into the med kit again. "That's it. It's over. I'm taking you back to Atlantis, mission or no. I won't risk anything else happening to you."

"To _me_," Teyla said. "What about yourself? It will be very suspicious if you start showing up alone." She stood and crossed her arms, ignoring the pain the motion caused in her right one. "I am not going back to Atlantis."

Ronon's shoulders tensed. He stood as well, looming over her. "Don't argue, Teyla. I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you to the Gate kicking and screaming if I have to."

She didn't doubt his sincerity. Still, Teyla couldn't resist grinning at the momentary, much-needed humor in the picture her mind conjured up. "You could try." Then she was serious again. "I am not leaving you, and I am not abandoning our mission."

"I'm not asking." He was being stubborn and hardheaded like usual. She loved him all the more for it.

Teyla knelt, reaching out to close the reassembled med kit. "Neither am I," she said softly. "If this mission is going to succeed, and we are going to survive, we need each other."

Ronon grabbed her by the shoulders desperately, dragged her to her feet. "Teyla, don't you understand?" His voice was ragged. "Yes, I need you. I need you to _survive_!" He leaned forward so he could rest his forehead against hers. "I feel like I just found you, Teyla. You gave me back what I thought I'd never have again. I love you, and I can't lose you. Not that way. Not now."

She swallowed hard at the look of sheer terror in his eyes. "What about me?" she wanted to know. "If I am on Atlantis, and you are out there—" she motioned to the entrance to the cave "—how am I to know if _you_ are alive or dead? If I gave you back what you thought you would never have again, _you_ gave _me_ what I thought I could never have _at all."_ Teyla reached up to tightly curl her hands around Ronon's forearms. "We both made a promise, Ronon, and not just to each other. If you make me go back on this now, we destroy _months_ of planning. I could not live with myself if we gave up on our mission now, when we are this close. Could you, Ronon?"

The expression in Ronon's eyes went distant. "'For years the scourge has been upon us, and we have retaliated with ne'er a true victory. Generations came and passed, with no hope of triumph for their children. So many have fought, died; given everything for the smallest win against an ultimately undefeatable foe. And yet we live in expectation that one day someone will boldly step forward and say "No more." That one day a single brave soul will lead an army to conquest, to a world – nay, a _galaxy_ – free from the Wraith, for one and for all.'" He let out a shaky sigh. "I still remember those words as though they were spoken yesterday. When the Chieftain of Sateda first gave that speech, I didn't understand it; not the way I do now. _Now_ I know, though—" He raised haunted eyes to her. "By the Ancestors, Teyla, the balance of power in the galaxy has tipped, that long-foretold day of war has finally come. And we're in the middle of it."

Teyla smiled a little. "'. . .Free from the Wraith, for one and for all,'" she gently quoted back to him. "It is what we have always been fighting for, Ronon. It is why we are here now. We made a choice, a single decision to fight for good instead of evil. Now the chance, small as it is, to defeat the Wraith has finally arrived. No matter how this battle turns out for us, I know in the end it will all be worth it. Each small victory is leading up to the ultimate downfall of the Wraith."

"It's all the losses that concerns me," Ronon said gruffly. Still, though, a slow, hesitant smile tilted up the corner of his mouth. "You never give up, do you, Teyla?"

She smiled back. "Neither do you. And _that_ is why we are fighting."

He pulled her into his arms and hugged her so tightly her ribs creaked a little. "We're going to win this." Determination returned to his tone and bearing. "Together."

Teyla closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. "_Together_."

**-Atlantis-**

The breeze, usually warm and comforting, held no such securities for Doctor Elizabeth Weir today. All she felt was cold foreboding, and it made her regret coming to her balcony for solace she knew she wouldn't find.

Behind her, the doors to the control room opened. Soft footsteps, welcome and not invasive, came toward her and stopped just behind her. Elizabeth felt eyes watching her, but she had no energy or will to look away from the ocean.

"No word." A simple, flat statement. It had become routine, almost, to hear it. Every morning brought the same hope, dwindling more and more as time passed; every night brought a little more despair to stamp out the hope.

"It's been over a month now," Elizabeth responded. "We all knew it could be as long as six months – maybe longer – before they finally contact us."

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard took the last few steps to the railing and leaned next to her. Their shoulders brushed; the contact was warm and welcoming. "Still, I hoped—"

"They will contact us when it is time." Those words, too, had become habitual. If she grew careless enough, she might even be able to believe them for a little while. "Their mission is very fragile. They can't risk blowing it just to let us know they're okay." She hated herself for the bitter tone she couldn't keep out of her voice.

"You believe that?" John didn't look at her.

Elizabeth's carefully-constructed façade of control cracked a little. "Sometimes I do."

John nodded once, almost distractedly and definitely tiredly. "If anyone can pull it off, they can. I've never seen two people work better as a team. It's like—" he hesitated, considering his words, "—_almost_ like they can read each other's minds, though that's impossible. No one else can understand or break through that." He shook his head. "I wish the entire expedition had that kind of understanding. Heck, even if my entire _team_ had that, I'd be happy."

"You wish you'd gone." It wasn't an accusation, just a simple statement. Elizabeth found she was selfishly glad he hadn't left with Ronon and Teyla. All this time, it had been his support helping her keep alive the tiny spark of hope that maybe Ronon and Teyla's mission would succeed. She would not have made it this far – even simply as the expedition leader – without him.

John winced a little. Perhaps he'd caught the underlying meaning in her words. "Sometimes I do. I just keep having to remind myself there's a reason we entrusted this mission to Ronon and Teyla."

Those words rang a little too true in Elizabeth's mind. How often had she told herself the same thing? How many times, when the Stargate activated ahead of schedule, had she feared it would be one or the other of them, returning to say that the mission had failed and the other had been killed? How many times had she feared they wouldn't return at all?

Certainly more than she could count.

She always hated losing members of her expedition; even more sending them out on missions that had odds leaning far more in favor of loss than gain. "They are a pair, one-of-a-kind in their own right. If anyone can pull off the impossible, it's they."

This time John turned his head to look at her. A crooked grin lit his face for the first time in what felt like forever. "_That_, you do believe." He sounded certain.

Elizabeth returned her gaze to the ocean, stirred up by a rapidly-approaching storm. "Yes." After all, this was the Pegasus Galaxy. _Everything_ here was impossible, according to some. Impossible, and unbelievably unpredictable.

Maybe that's why she still hoped. It was doubtful she'd ever know for sure.

John tilted his head back and stared at the black, stormy sky. "Storm's coming." The words definitely held a double meaning.

Elizabeth drew in one final breath of the salty air, heavy with the threat of impending rain. "So it is. I believe it's time to raise the shield." She turned to go back into the city.

"'Lizabeth?"

She paused and turned back to face John. "Yes?"

"The war's screaming down on us. We both know it. Do you think we can win it, in the end?"

Of all the questions he could have asked, did it have to be that one? Elizabeth forced out a breath and tore her uncertain gaze from his intense one. "I don't know, John. I'm sorry; I honestly don't know."

She turned and fled.

_-To Be Continued-_

_**A little break from the horribly evil cliffies, I felt bad. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the next should be up soon!**_

**Elfvamp1-13-97**: lol. I agree: definitely too hot to die. Sorry for the major evil cliffhanger last chapter, I promise I'll make up for it. Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Voice of 1000 thoughts**: -hugs- Please don't die! I'm sorry for the major evil cliffhanger last chapter, but I promise the question is answered in this one. And I also promise to make up for the evil cliffhangers. Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Hannah 554**: Thank you for the reviews! That's really weird, ff net definitely does some weird stuff sometimes, though I don't think that's ever happened to me before. Thank you, I really enjoyed writing that fight scene, and the Ronon/Teyla kiss was _definitely_ fun. I'm sorry for the really mean cliffie, I promise I'll make up for it! Thanks again for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**StarSkimmer**: I loved your review! Very sorry for the evil bloody cliffhanger, but I promise I'll make up for it. The first scene was a lot of fun to write, especially the kiss lol. I'm really glad you loved it. -grin- Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!


	8. Changes

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 8/?

**-Chapter 7-**

_Changes_

_Fear. It stuck in her throat, foul-tasting, sickening. It curled around her heart like a dark vise, some evil thing that siphoned away all hope. It held her eyes shut; as long as they were not open she did not have to know what lay before her._

_She fought against that fear; won just enough to be able to open her eyes slowly._

_Grey everywhere. Swirling through the mist like ghosts; sluggishly moving across the sky in the form of clouds; clinging to her skin in the guise of raindrops. She heard nothing, saw nothing, through the grey._

_She opened her mouth, but her voice was gone. A spasm in her abdomen stole her breath; she collapsed to her knees. Fighting against the pain, she pulled in a raspy breath, feeling it slide down her throat like cold fire. She raised her head and reached out a hand: crawling through the grey; trying to find a way out; trying to find someone who would help her in this upside down world._

_Her strength began to fail. When she thought she could go no farther, the mist began to thin. Dim yellow light seeped into her world, and she forced herself to reach for it, to push herself harder and further._

_At last the grey let her go, but not without a little resistance. She sat on her knees for a minute, holding herself up with her hands, her head hanging. She could still hear nothing. But at least that infernal grey was gone._

_She raised her head._

_A bloodstained battlefield stretched before her, as far as she could see. Fallen soldiers, both human and Wraith, lay scattered where they had fallen. Some were dead, some still alive but fading quickly. Fires burned intermittently, casting a garish glow on everything. In the distance, Teyla could discern the flashing lights of weapons fire._

_She turned her gaze up toward the sky. There was a war raging up there, too. Jumpers chased the sleek forms of Darts across the sky, exchanging drones and energy blasts every few seconds. Some of both fell from the sky to crash in a final blazing roar that remained silent for her. Debris rained from above like fiery hailstones; Teyla cringed away just in time to keep from being burned by one that landed near her._

_She knew what this was, where she was. Some distant part of her mind tried to convince her this was a dream, but she smothered it. Suddenly discovering she carried a P-90 clipped to her vest, she staggered to her feet._

_Teyla blinked sluggishly at it, managed to get her cold finger around the trigger. At least partway assured she'd have something to defend herself with, she forced one foot in front of the other toward the distant battle._

_Like what happens in all dreams, one moment she was by the mist; the next she found herself flung in the middle of chaotic battle. She had no recollection of walking there, she was just – there._

_The flash of an explosion a few feet to her left snapped her from her stupor and spurred her into motion. She ducked away to her right, bending at the waist to keep herself as small a target as possible as she ran. She tripped; sprawled; gasped a startled breath that sent her into a coughing fit._

_She rolled over, still not able to hear the battle. The roaring rush of cold air past her ears drowned out all other noise. More misty figures flitted around her and dispersed: Wraith. She scrunched her eyes shut and convinced herself they weren't there. At the same time she worked on getting her bearings so the world wouldn't spin and tilt when she opened her eyes again._

_Curiosity pried open her eyelids, and she turned her head to look. Fear crashed over her again as bile rose to her throat; she dry-heaved once and began to shake._

"_Ronon!"_

"Will you _wake up!"_

Dazed and confused, Teyla did as ordered. Sweat trickled down her face, and she still felt incredibly sick. She started to turn her head toward the source of the voice; stopped as a vicious, retaliating jab of pain punished her. _Migraine_.

She raised her hands to cradle her head as she slowly sat up, groaning. Ronon helped her, then sat back on his heels, looking worried. "What was all that about? You nearly gave me a heart attack when you screamed."

Teyla smiled sickly. "A dream: you don't want to know." She kept her eyes closed and her hands clamped over her forehead. Sunlight still seeped through; it felt like someone poking hot knives through her eyes.

Something clanked. Ronon tapped a canteen against her arm. "Here. Want some pain pills?"

"Yes." Teyla took the water, paused. "Thank you."

"Sure." Ronon pressed two pills into her hand; she gratefully swallowed them. Another sip of water, then she handed the canteen back.

Ronon pressed his lips against her temple gently, before standing and moving off toward the entrance to the cave. "Lie back down and cover your eyes. You need to eat something with those pills – I'll fix some breakfast."

Teyla felt too sick to argue. She sank back down into the comfort of her sleeping bag, draping her left arm over her eyes. Her right bicep throbbed in a beat to match that in her head; her throat felt scratchy; and her stomach churned uncomfortably. Typically she didn't like being fussed over, but on this one occasion it felt good. Guilt poked at her for not helping – and not taking a night watch – but she promised herself she'd make up for it.

Later.

She must have fallen back asleep. It seemed like only moments later when a hand gently brushed her good arm. "Teyla? You hungry?"

Teyla drew in a deep breath and squinted open her eyes. Her head was still pounding; apparently it hadn't been long enough for the pills to take effect. Not wanting to disappoint Ronon – and knowing she had to eat something or get sicker – she took the steaming bowl of mushy instant oatmeal he handed her. "Thank you." She struggled to sit up, keeping her eyes squinted as she scooped up a spoonful of the porridge.

Ronon sat down next to her, easily folding his large frame into a tailor position. "D'you feel like relocating?" He didn't look at her, instead poking the tip of his spoon into his own oatmeal.

Teyla paused, spoon halfway to her mouth, to stare openmouthed at him. She felt as though his words had grabbed her world, skewing it and twisting it sideways. "What?" She didn't _want_ to leave. Despite the discomforts and the dangers, she _loved_ this planet.

She'd been happy here.

"It's not safe here anymore." Ronon's broad shoulders lifted and lowered in a heavy sigh. He looked up at her, green eyes sad. "Obviously someone knows this is where we're staying. It's better to be safe – we should move to another planet."

_Not fair, not fair!_ Teyla put her spoon back in her bowl, set it down very carefully. She wanted very badly, like a rebellious child, to throw a tantrum: she _didn't_ want to leave. Choking down her resentment, she said tightly, "Very well." He was right, she knew he was. But she couldn't bring herself to admit it out loud. "I'll take first watch tonight. Just in case."

Ronon lowered his head, studying her from under his brows. "You're mad."

"Not _mad_. Just – disappointed." She heard the petulant tone in her voice, sensed how she was pushing him away with it. She hated herself for it, but couldn't stop.

Ronon mumbled something under his breath, sighed yet again. "We can wait until your pain pills kick in." Silently unfolding himself, he stood and left the cave, taking his bowl with him.

Teyla leaned her head back against the cave wall and resisted the urge to cry.

**-M54T37-**

Their packing was accomplished with professional efficiency, since Ronon was used to keeping constantly on the move; and Teyla was from a nomadic people. However, they maintained a painful silence throughout the process.

As Teyla rolled up her sleeping bag and clipped it to her pack, she glanced over her shoulder toward Ronon. He worked with clipped movements and stiff shoulders, without once looking in her direction. Smothering a sigh, she turned back to her pack, pausing every few moments to swipe at her eyes. She knew she shouldn't have allowed herself to become so attached to a place, and yet— She'd opened her heart to Ronon _here_, for the very first time, trusting him with her heart and her feelings. And he'd done the same with her _here_, risking further pain and loss by loving her. On some level, she knew she wasn't being rational. But by leaving this strange home they'd formed together, she felt like she was leaving that part of her life as well.

Charin would have told her she was just turning another page in the story of her life. In the bitter present, though, Teyla couldn't entirely bring herself to believe that. Her heart just hurt too much.

As if feeling her eyes on him, Ronon finally looked up and caught her gaze. Pain flickered in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Teyla. I really am."

She nodded, silently returned to her packing. If she tried to say anything, anything at all, she knew she'd start crying and wouldn't be able to stop. She already despised herself for losing sight of their true purpose. She could not, she _would_ not risk having Ronon equally despise her for being so weak as to let emotion get in the way of their mission.

Teyla heard Ronon sigh heavily as he stood and shouldered his pack. She peeked through the screen of her hair to see him walking out of the cave.

She leaned forward so she could rest her forehead on the soft pad of her sleeping bag. _Oh Ancestors, what have I done to him?_

Slowly, a small tear began to form in her heart.

_-To Be Continued-_

_**I am so sorry it's taken me so long to get this updated. First I was too busy to write because of Independence Day, then for the past three days I've been battling a migraine (so not conductive to good writing). I apologize again for taking so long to update, and for this chapter being a little shorter. I hope you enjoy, though, and the next update should hopefully be much sooner!**_

**Hannah 554**: Thank you! I'm really glad Ronon's speech turned out all right, because I'd been frantically scribbling on scratch pieces of paper for almost two weeks working on it. I wanted it to be perfect. And I'd been looking forward to writing that scene with John and Elizabeth for a while, they'd been nagging at the back of my head and I finally got to write them! I'm really glad you liked it, and there will be more with them really soon. I'm really honored that you like my fic, thank you! Thanks for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Elfvamp1-13-97**: Thank you! I'm so sorry it took me so long to update, but spending the Fourth of July with my family and really close friends kept me busy, and then for the last three days I've been fighting a killer migraine and groaning every time I thought about writing. Once more, I'm really sorry about the long wait, and for this chapter being a little shorter than normal. I'm hoping that I'll be able to update this much sooner for the next chapter. Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**StarSkimmer**: Thank you! And I totally agree – I loved writing that scene, I was walking around the house the rest of the day with this silly grin on my face, and my parents looked at me like I was nuts, lol. I'm really glad you liked the scene with John and Elizabeth, that had been hanging around in my head for a while and I was happy to write it. They'll be making another appearance really soon. Sorry for the long wait for the update – let's just say I sympathized with Teyla in this chapter, lol. I hope to have the next chapter up much sooner. And I'm really honored that you think my fic is great – thank you thank you! -grin- Thank you for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!


	9. Complications

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 9/?

**-Chapter 8-**

_Complications_

Peace. It was what he fought for, what he longed for. However, at the moment, his life was _anything_ except peaceful.

Ronon guided Teyla away from the Gate, carefully scanning their surroundings as he made for the cave that would be their new base of operations. Really, this world wasn't much different than M54T37, with similar terrain and a freshwater source nearby. There were only two real differences: the Gate was a little farther away from the cave, and the weather was a little warmer. By picking a planet similar to the previous one, he'd hoped Teyla would be more receptive to the move.

Apparently _not_.

Ronon dropped his pack on the cave floor next to Teyla's and addressed her stiff back, since she wouldn't turn to look at him even when he spoke. "We'll have to dial ho – M54T37 and go there before we come here. Lead anybody trying to follow us on a fruitless chase, or something." He was more or less just making conversation, anything to fill the uncomfortable silence between them. He wished he hadn't slipped up by nearly calling their old planet "home." Teyla had caught it and now looked even stiffer.

"I know." The words seemed carved from ice. "Are you ready to go to Belsa?"

_No. I want to stay here with you and sort out whatever's wrong._ He didn't have "stupid" tattooed on his forehead, however, so he didn't voice the thought. Better to give Teyla time and space to sort out whatever was bothering her. He just hoped it wouldn't take her long. "Not yet. I need to darken your tattoo."

Teyla's hand rose absently to her neck. This time she turned her head for a long, cool look at him before she nodded. "Fine."

Gathering his supplies, Ronon carried them to the front of the cave. He organized them on a flat-topped stone within easy reach of where he eased down at the cave's entrance. The sun-warmed stone felt good against his back as he stretched his left leg out at an angle, while drawing the right one up. Silently, he took up the bowl in his left hand, the reed in his right, and indicated the empty ground between.

In matching silence, Teyla knelt where requested. "Hair," he said briefly. She put her right hand behind her head to draw aside the offending strands, her body language still rigid as she presented her neck to him. _Why do you have to be so stubborn, as well as so beautiful?_ he wondered. Dipping the tip of the reed in the stain, he leaned forward to trace the first outlining stroke.

She still, despite months of rough living, smelled of flowers and some indefinable spice. His hand began to shake just before the reed touched her skin. Clenching his back teeth together, Ronon willed steadiness into his hand. He hesitated for a second. _Okay, so maybe this wasn't such a good idea._ Using her shoulder to brace his wrist, he carefully applied another coat of stain. The warm nearness of her, the way the inside of his knee occasionally brushed her back as he worked, the glow of the sunlight on her creamy brown skin all combined into an almost physical pain within him.

_Just – keep your mind on what you're supposed to be doing, Dex. Think about the tattoo, only about the tattoo._

Somehow, he managed to focus and redarken the design, even though he nearly messed it up twice. Blowing on the fake tattoo to hasten its drying nearly finished him off. He wanted so badly to wrap her in his arms and hold her to him, to twine his fingers through her hair and kiss her breathless. Instead, he made himself shove his hands against the ground on either side of him to conceal their shaking, and said gruffly, "That's it, it's done."

Still without speaking, Teyla rose smoothly to her feet and moved a few steps away. Cleaning and packing away stain, bowl, and reed brush gave Ronon the time he needed to regain a measure of self-control.

On their return to the Gate, he hung back, allowing Teyla to dial Belsa while he pushed down the knot of discomfort in his stomach. He hated Belsa; hated Garros even more. When he and Teyla had started out on this up-and-down mission, he'd expected trouble of some kind. But he _hadn't_ expected to see any of his people again, or meet Teyla's ex-betrothed.

He certainly hadn't expected things to get so complicated between them.

Ronon's mood darkened when they reached Belsa. Apparently the storm had continued through the rest of the previous night and into the present day. Now, at the return of dusk, the weepy skies looked almost as dark as night. The streets were deserted, all the shops closed early because of the weather.

A chill crawled up Ronon's spine, and not because of the weather. He'd seen far too many worlds like this during his time as a Runner: dark, dismal, abandoned. While he knew the Wraith hadn't been here in many generations, he couldn't help but make the mental comparison.

Teyla, clutching the front of her coat closed, hunched her shoulders up to her ears, trying to keep the rain from running down her neck. She looked cold and miserable. Ronon wished he dared wrap an arm around her to help ease the chill and the dripping misery.

He wished they could go back to Atlantis and forget this whole mostly lousy experience.

No chance of that happening, either. They were too committed to this mission now.

A crowd had already gathered in the local tavern by the time Ronon and Teyla arrived. Garros stood front and center. He waved a glass of golden liquor as he told some outlandish story to the group of men clustered around him. Smoke hung heavily on the air. Its acrid tang in combination with the sour smell of sweat and cheap liquor nearly made Ronon gag. He wished Teyla didn't have to be here – he wished _he_ didn't have to be here.

A quick glance at her neck reassured him that her tattoo hadn't been damaged at all by the rain. _Good._ That was one heavy burden off his mind.

Garros spotted them. He gestured with his glass in apology at the men he had been talking to and came over. "So, you showed up," he said, the sneer in his comment directed at Teyla. "We'll begin soon. Get yourselves something to drink and find a spot."

"I do not indulge in spirits." Steel edged Teyla's words as she pushed past Garros.

The Athosian reached out to grasp Teyla's right arm, digging in his fingers. "Too good for it?"

Ronon saw Teyla's jaw clench as her eyes darkened in pain. She angrily yanked her arm from his grasp, her expression as dangerous as a wounded animal's. "Leave me alone, Garros. You are drunk, and I wish to have nothing to do with you. I most certainly _will not_ take orders from you."

Garros's gaze dropped to the sleeve of Teyla's coat as she stalked past him. Ronon's followed an instant later. A small spot of red was forming and darkening where her wound had started bleeding again from the pressure he'd exerted on it. Surprise registered on Garros's face. He turned to Ronon, his expression one of grudging admiration. "Couldn't stand her back-talking either?"

Ronon didn't even try to control himself. He took one step forward, hunching his shoulders so he could get right down in Garros's face. "Listen, scum," he hissed between gritted teeth. "You don't belong on the same planet as Teyla, let alone in the same room. If you _ever_ even _try_ to touch her again—" He deliberately allowed the threat to dangle unfinished, letting the intensity of his gaze convey unspecified terrors to the exiled Athosian.

Garros eyes flinched away from his. The liquid in his glass quivered noticeably as he turned away without speaking.

Straightening back to his full height, Ronon continued to stand where he was for a moment, breathing deeply while striving to contain his residual anger. As it faded away, confusion replaced it. Either Garros was a really good actor, or he _hadn't_ sent an assassin after them. He had acted genuinely surprised when he saw the blood on Teyla's sleeve. It appeared to be just a fluke that he'd grabbed her injured arm.

Shaking his head, Ronon moved quickly to catch up with Teyla, who had worked her way through the crowd to the back of the room. She settled her left shoulder against the wall only a few feet away from the back door and a quick escape route.

Ronon leaned his back against the old wood paneling next to her and scanned the crowd. Here and there he caught sight of familiar faces from Sateda; his gaze never lingered. While he'd very briefly considered joining the remnants of his people once he'd discovered they were alive, he had just as quickly dismissed the idea. Atlantis was home now, her people his; but to be totally truthful, the unbearable thought of leaving Teyla had been the deciding factor.

Garros, now standing at the front of the crowded room, called everyone's attention to him. Ronon kept one ear tuned to what the man was saying. He divided the rest of his focus between Teyla and gauging the emotional temperature of the crowded room.

"As you all know," Garros's voice rang out, "this organization has been building up its forces for months, even years. Each and every one of you has trained hard. You come from a variety of planets and peoples for one united reason: To rise up against the Wraith and defeat them."

An excited rustling and murmuring went through the crowd. Ronon and Teyla both stayed still.

Garros held up his hand for quiet and spoke again. "Tonight, we gather here to celebrate a glorious fact. At last our numbers have grown large enough to enable the execution of our carefully-constructed plan. Events have been set in motion to draw the Wraith into one uniform culling, the likes of which this galaxy has not seen since the time of the Ancestors. And when that happens, I tell you now, we will strike their throats, spill their blood, and free our homes from their oppression!"

Wild cheering burst forth. The room seemed hardly large enough to contain the yelling, foot-stomping, backslapping frenzy. Teyla glanced at Ronon and arched an eyebrow. Ronon, after one more long, evaluating look around, slowly nodded. _It's finally time._

The roar of the crowd eventually lessened, then died. All focus returned to Garros, who swept his gaze across the crowd. He held Ronon and Teyla's gazes for a long moment before moving on. "You have one week to prepare. Seven days from now we will meet here with all our forces. We will then depart as an army to crush the Wraith. And we will be victorious!"

Garros hopped down off the chair he'd been using as a podium, and was immediately surrounded by admiring sycophants. The raucous din of conversation and celebration burst out afresh as more drink freely flowed.

Ronon and Teyla slipped through the back door, unnoticed.

Once outside he found the cold wind and rain that hit him in the face a welcome change from the hot, oppressive atmosphere of the tavern. For a moment he turned his face upward, eyes closed, allowing the large drops to weep over his face; then, bowing his head, he shook them free. When he opened his eyes, he caught Teyla looking at him with a longing expression. Her hair hung around her face in wet strings. Wetness poured down her face, but he couldn't tell if it were rainwater, tears, or a combination of both. Suddenly the sounds still throbbing through the door behind him no longer mattered. The roar of thunder and pounding of rain ceased to exist.

Swiftly, unexpectedly, his entire world centered on the form of a small, proud, powerful, ethereally beautiful woman. There was no impending war, there was no mission. There were no enemies, no threat of death hanging over them. There was only – _her._

Teyla blinked, as though breaking free from a trance. "I do not want to go back!" She sounded torn, uncertain.

Ronon gently grasped her wet face in his hands. He planted a long, tender kiss on her upturned lips. "I don't, either." To his surprise, he found the words were true when he said them. "But nothing, _nothing_, between us will change. Teyla, I promise you, when this nightmare is over, when we can go back to Atlantis—" he stumbled over the word "—back _home_, every—"

"Everything bad will be gone, but the good will remain." She sounded sure of her words as she finished his sentence.

Smiling down at her, he smoothed her cheekbones with his thumbs. "I love you." The words sounded right to say, so he did.

Teyla's lips tilted, ever-so-slightly. "I know."

_-To Be Continued-_

_**A break from the evil cliffies – I think. This chapter was a lot of fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it! Next one should be up soon!**_

**Hannah 554**: Thank you! The dream was a lot of fun to write, so I'm really glad it turned out well. Teyla just kind of seemed to write herself the last chapter, I just looked up and suddenly the chapter was done. My migraine is gone, finally, thank you. Thank you for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**StarSkimmer**: Yes, I was a very bad girl, lol. I was just getting over the headache and was still feeling a little crabby, so I dumped it all on Teyla. Made me feel better, though. LOL As for the kissing and making up. . . I think you'll like the end of this chapter. -wink- Thank you for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**SpaceMonkey0941**: Yes. I was still in a crabby mood from the headache, so I dumped it all on Teyla and made myself feel better. I'm evil, lol. I'm feeling much better now, thank you, so here's the update. Thank you for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! -megatacklehugs-


	10. Turnabout

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 10/?

**-Chapter 9-**

_Turnabout_

After Teyla had dried and changed first, Ronon went into the cave for his turn. He felt as though time had looped back on itself, turning his life on its ear, but he didn't dislike the fact. For maybe the first time ever, he welcomed change with open arms. He'd been cautious at first about the alterations the Atlantians had made in his life, wary of the _differentness_ they brought. Now, years later, he could acknowledge how everything about his life was _better_. He didn't try to analyze or explain it. Life was just _better._

He pulled a fresh shirt over his head as he exited the cave, pausing halfway through the motion to study quietly the vision before him.

Teyla sat under a tree, her back propped against the trunk. Her wrists rested loosely over her upraised knees as she gazed up through the canopy of green above her, eyes unfocused. Sunlight dappled her face and spun threads of red fire into her hair. A serene smile curled her lips. She looked happy, content: quite similar to how he felt.

Ronon could have happily watched her all day. However, he knew there was important business awaiting them. Blinking free of his trance, he finished tugging on his shirt. Even though he hated the necessity of breaking the silence and disturbing Teyla, he asked softly, "Ready to go?"

Teyla lingered in her dream world for another precious few seconds. Blinking slowly, she turned her gaze to him, looking surprised to see him standing there. "Yes, I believe so. If you are." She gracefully stood. Brushing off the seat of her pants, she pivoted toward the trail leading to the Stargate. "Are you prepared for this?"

Ronon adjusted his stride to match hers and thought about her question. "For the war, or returning to Atlantis?"

Teyla shot him a wry smile. "Either. Both."

Honestly? He wasn't sure. "It'll be good to see the others again. Though living somewhere – anywhere – else has felt good, in a way."

She studied him from beneath her lashes. "And the nightmares?"

Only years of hiding his emotions saved him from his true reaction showing on his face. "They're my demons. It's about time I faced them." Unconsciously, he reached out to grip her hand. "I've been running away from a lot. From too many things." He didn't have to say more. Teyla, who had her own troubles to fight, understood in a way no one else ever could or would. Someday soon, they would talk about them to each other; but now wasn't the time.

Her hand tightened on his. "I think a round or two in the gym is in order, after the briefing?"

Excitement stirred within Ronon at that, and his lips parted in an enormous, genuine grin. "That'd be good. I wonder how rusty you've gotten?"

The residual tenseness vanished as Teyla smiled incredulously at him. "_I_ have gotten?" She made a sound that, for such an elegant person, was very nearly a snort. "Speak for yourself, Ronon Dex."

Suddenly, returning to Atlantis held a glimmer of happiness.

**-Atlantis-**

Ronon knew his life had transformed completely within the span of a few days. But after stepping through into the city's Gateroom, the thought snuck into his mind that Atlantis seemed not to have experienced a _hint_ of change the entire time he and Teyla had been gone.

Smiling mask in place, Teyla politely answered the questions directed at her by what seemed a mob of Atlantians swarming the Gateroom to greet them. Although he felt guilty about hanging back, Ronon let her handle everything. He needed some space just to look around and reacquaint himself with a place that should feel like home, but oddly didn't.

Not anymore.

_It's just because you've been away so long,_ he told himself firmly. _Atlantis is your home. Her people are yours._ Forcefully he shoved away memories of the planet he'd shared with Teyla for so long. Now _that_ had felt like home.

"Ronon! Teyla! You're back!"

_McKay._ Ronon felt the corners of his mouth try to twitch upward as his and Teyla's teammate wormed his way to them through the crowd. All right, even if he admitted it only to himself, he _had_ missed the annoying scientist.

Teyla smile turned genuine as she accepted Rodney McKay's awkward hug. "It is nice to see you too, Rodney." Clearly hearing the laugh in her voice, Ronon felt subtly better about being in Atlantis again.

"I would have been here sooner, but I swear Zelenka was trying to blow up the lab, so I had to avert that disaster before I came here. No sense in literally giving you a bang-up welcome, now is there?" The words poured from McKay's mouth like a waterfall. He didn't miss a beat as he turned to face Ronon. "Conan, buddy!"

_That_ he hadn't missed. "McKay. Glad to see you managed to keep Atlantis in one piece while we were gone." He let his smile make up for his gruff tone.

"Oh, ha-ha, you haven't changed a bit, have you?"

Ronon fought to keep his expression neutral. _Actually, I have._ But of course there was no way he could say that.

Teyla smoothly covered for him. "Are Colonel Sheppard and Doctor Weir here?"

Like flipping a switch, McKay's expression changed. "The mission, it—?" He trailed off, leaving the rest of his question implied.

"Was long and difficult, but a success nevertheless." Teyla briskly became all business. "It is imperative we begin the briefing as soon as we possibly can."

"They're in a meeting with Colonel Caldwell, who's probably chained them to their chairs to keep them from coming out here to greet you. Don't worry, I'll knock Caldwell over the head and free them for you." McKay scampered off. The Atlantians dispersed in his wake, with a few more "good to see you back"s to Ronon and Teyla.

Suddenly alone in the Gateroom, Ronon exchanged a loaded look with Teyla. An entire conversation passed between them in a matter of seconds. The altered nature of their relationship could not, at this time, be revealed. Not only did too much hang in the balance, there were far more important matters to discuss anyway. Concerning other things, though—

Ronon guided Teyla across the room to the space under the grand staircase, using it to shield them from any prying eyes or ears in the control room above. "What about Garros?" he asked her quietly. "Are we going to tell them about him?"

The inner battle Teyla fought with herself passed through her eyes as she contemplated the question. Finally she shook her head with resolution. "No. We will only mention him as Larson Gathos, the leader of the rebellion. He is, after all, nothing more."

Ronon wished he felt as sure the decision wouldn't come back to bite them later. However, he admired her courage and fortitude, and acquiesced to her choice. "As you wish." He wanted to pull her into a hug and kiss her. Knowing it for far too public a place, he refrained.

Suddenly tense again, Teyla gazed up at him, disquiet lurking just beyond the resolution in her eyes. "It is always this horrid war," she muttered. "Come. We will meet them in the briefing room."

Ronon followed her, wondering about both the look in her eyes and her cryptic comment. As he and Teyla mounted the last two steps into the control room, his ponderings were interrupted by Sheppard and Weir exiting the latter's office.

"Welcome back," Weir greeted them. She hugged Teyla, while offering Ronon a slightly awkward smile. It had taken time, but they'd reached a level of coexisting without stepping on each other's toes. Ronon was just fine with that, and it didn't seem to bother Weir, either. Despite the residual discomfort, however, her smile looked sincere. Ronon politely reciprocated, then shifted his attention to Sheppard, leaving Teyla to take care of the pleasantries.

Sheppard was too busy glaring daggers at Colonel Steven Caldwell's back to pay any attention to his teammates. The commander of the _Daedalus_ didn't bother to turn as he headed for the briefing room. For his part, he was either unaware of Sheppard's look or didn't care. If Ronon had to put money on it, he'd say it was probably the latter. He wondered what Caldwell had started this time to put his team leader in such a foul mood.

Teyla's elbow jabbing into his ribs snapped him back to the matter at hand. Now he wished he'd been paying attention to what was being said.

Fortunately, Weir saved him without realizing it. "I just wish you could have returned under less pressing circumstances. May I go out on a limb here and assume your mission so far has been a success?" The question was quite obviously directed at him.

_You have no idea._ Ronon swallowed back his initial response and chose a far less revealing one. "So far," he agreed. "We've got the information we need."

That caught Sheppard's attention. He finally joined the conversation. "That's really great! Let's move this to the briefing room, shall we?" He gently placed a hand between Elizabeth's shoulders and guided her in that direction, tipping his head to the side in a motion for his teammates to follow.

McKay was already seated at the table, scribbling away on his data pad, when the others arrived. He muttered a general "Finally" to them without looking up. Caldwell nodded curtly to Ronon and Teyla, coolly ignoring Sheppard with obvious disdain.

Ronon sat down across from McKay and next to Teyla as Weir and Sheppard took their own seats, the latter as far from Colonel Caldwell as the table allowed. It felt strange to be indoors again, seeing by artificial light and breathing filtered air. He could just imagine what it was going to feel like sleeping in a real bed again – weird. But, as always, that would come later. Much later. After the war.

This time, he caught himself as his thoughts wandered. He firmly redirected his attention to the matter at hand.

Teyla was speaking. "We followed hundreds of false trails before we finally found the man who could give us the information we needed. He told us we needed to see Larson Gathos about the rumors. He then directed us to Belsa."

Ronon cleared his throat and somehow managed to keep the bitterness from his tone when he took over. "Didn't take us too long to find him. He signed us up for the army and told us we'd be working for the Belsa division. Apparently there're similar regiments posted on planets all over the galaxy. I'm guessing it's so if the Wraith attack, they'll only get a pocket of the rebellion instead of wiping out the whole movement."

Caldwell spoke for the first time since the meeting began. "So what you're saying is that Gathos is _deliberately_ goading the Wraith into an attack?" He looked disapproving.

Teyla and Ronon nodded mutely.

Sheppard's eyes glittered intensely. "You've just seen the Belsa division, then? Or have you been to some of the other worlds?"

"We have only been on Belsa. Apparently the only time the divisions meet is going to be when the war starts." Ronon heard the undercurrent of tension in Teyla's voice when she said that. Unobtrusively he tipped his head back slightly to peek beneath the table. Sure enough, her hands were clenched into fists on her lap. "Gathos divides his time equally among the planets and leaves trusted lieutenants in charge when he is not present."

"Do you know when this is supposed to happen?" Weir leaned forward, her attention riveted on them.

"A week from today, Gathos said. The entire army is going to gather on Belsa and then travel via Stargate to begin the attack on the Wraith."

McKay looked up from his data pad for the first time. "Ooh. I don't suppose Gathos said anything about _how_ this was going to happen?"

Ronon shrugged. "The whole point of amassing that many troops is to make the Wraith think they've found a new, rich feeding ground within their own galaxy. His agents have been feeding the Wraith intel about remnants of people from different ravaged worlds finding cover on this planet, in order to get all those Hives to team up when they otherwise wouldn't. We never heard anything said about _how_ he plans to take the Hives out with a purely planetary-based force. The rank and file are so dazzled by his charisma they just blindly believe he'll pull some miracle out of his—"

Caldwell coughed pointedly. His brows were drawn in an expression of obvious displeasure, though he spoke not a word. He didn't have to.

Teyla ignored the colonel's reaction and expounded on Ronon's comment. "Ronon is indeed correct in his assessment of the situation. Beyond general promises that when the Wraith arrive for that culling, the attack upon them will begin and be successful, Gathos has said nothing. If he has shared details with his lieutenants, they are being equally close-mouthed."

"Were you able to get a Gate address for where this 'fake culling' is supposed to go down?" Sheppard asked.

Ronon exchanged a glance with Teyla. "No, I am afraid not," she sighed. "That information was also being very closely held."

_Garros is overconfident. I hope he's the first to be killed in the war._ Ronon couldn't find it in himself to be ashamed of the thought searing through his mind. _The Ancestors as my witnesses, I'd kill him myself if I could get the chance._

McKay was muttering again, this time in an aside to Sheppard. "Looks like Major Lorne and his team were right. The Wraith _are_ doing something – unusual." He looked a little green at the thought.

Sheppard nodded absently and narrowed his eyes. "So – now what?"

As if on cue the briefing room doors silently opened with the barest whisper of displaced air. Atlantis's 2IC, Marcus Lorne, barreled into the room. He slid to a stop, his wide blue eyes briefly resting on Ronon and Teyla before shooting to Weir. As he noticed that, not only was the Air Force officer out of uniform but dressed very roughly in clothes like those worn on a thousand Pegasus galaxy worlds, Ronon instinctively straightened in his chair.

Weir's head turned in his direction, surprise transforming her features. "Major, you're back early?" It was more of a question than a comment.

Lorne nodded quickly and planted his hands on the surface of the briefing room table. He took a moment to catch his breath before straightening. "Permission to join the briefing, ma'am?"

"Granted. Have a seat, Major." Elizabeth motioned to the chair next to Caldwell, which Lorne quickly occupied. "Now then, what is all this about?"

"I don't think you're going to want to hear this, ma'am. It changes everything we know so far about this 'big plan' we've been gathering intel about." Lorne darted another look in Ronon and Teyla's direction, then spoke again. "According to the person I just talked to, as soon as the Wraith have begun their culling runs on the planet where his forces are deployed, Gathos plans to detonate the system's sun. He and his advisors will then make a getaway, leaving the rest of the army to be destroyed right along with the Wraith."

For a moment the entire briefing room was plunged into absolute, all-breaths-held silence. Then Sheppard broke it by letting out a long, low whistle. "Wow! Talk about your ultimate double-cross—!"

McKay waved frantic hands. "Whoa! He's got enough firepower to detonate a _sun_? Have you any _idea_ how big a boom that takes?"

Ronon leaned his head against the back of his seat, suddenly feeling very tired. "Big. Very big. But he certainly seems confident enough. So I'm inclined to believe he can pull it off."

Teyla still looked shocked as she slowly nodded in agreement. "From what we have observed, he has planned this very carefully. He probably has contingency plans as well, in case something goes wrong," she said once she recovered her voice.

McKay was staring blankly at his data pad, his fingers absently rubbing his temples. "Oh, there's no way. The vast majority of the technology in this galaxy isn't anywhere _near_ advanced enough to pull this off!"

"The _vast majority_ of the technology in this galaxy," Sheppard repeated. "I'm sure if you search enough planets and check enough black markets you'll find something to suit just about any need."

Lorne nodded. "This mission in and of itself has proven that almost anything you can think of is available in this galaxy's version of the black market. You just have to look long enough and hard enough – and be tough enough when you finally find someone with whom to trade."

Caldwell rested his elbows on the tabletop and addressed Major Lorne. "Do you have any reason whatsoever to suspect that what you just said isn't all of Gathos's plan? I mean, you're positive that he's not planning to evacuate the soldiers he's put on the planet?"

Teyla, still in shock, answered for Lorne. "I have no trouble believing that he is capable of such a deception."

Ronon swallowed hard. After all the pain Garros had caused her, and then he had to go and pull _this_. . . "We've met him and trust me, Gathos isn't the goodhearted type. To him, all these people he's gathered up are nothing more than bait – expendable bait."

Weir leaned back in her seat and tiredly rubbed her hands over her face. "Okay, so how can we get the word out to all these people that Gathos is planning to betray them?"

"Without the word getting back to Gathos himself?" Ronon shrugged. "I don't know. Unless we do it on the very day of the attack, before everyone leaves for the target planet, I don't see how we can make this work. But we'd have to have some kind of irrefutable proof. And even then, blood would flow, probably beginning with whoever broke the news. It's – it's like he _brainwashes_ people."

McKay waved his hands again. "Hello, everybody! Could we have some rational thought here? We can't let this opportunity slip by!"

Six pairs of eyes immediately turned to regard him dubiously.

"What?" McKay looked around him disbelievingly. "With all the military mindpower in this room, am I really the only one who sees the possibilities? This is a major, _major_ opportunity we're looking at here. I mean, when else are we going to see all these Hives in one place? We should seize the moment!"

Sheppard let out an obviously skeptical cough. "'Seize the moment'?"

"Of course! Gathos's plan in and of itself isn't too bad. I mean, detonating a _sun_ is definitely a good way of getting rid of a fleet of ships. We've seen the same thing done in the Milky Way. Not with Wraith Hive ships, of course, with Goa'uld motherships, but my point is _it can be done_. And who better than us?"

Weir shook her head a little. "Rodney—"

Caldwell gaped openly at her. "You cannot seriously be considering his proposition!"

Atlantis's leader calmly leveled her gaze on the_ Daedalus_'s commander. "It is at least something to _consider_. At this point that is all I am doing. But if we can do it while also managing to save the lives of the thousands of Pegasus galaxy residents who have unwittingly gotten themselves embroiled in a plan that will end with their deaths," she tipped her head to one side and nodded thoughtfully, "then I would call that a very good day's work."

"At the risk of our own people!" Caldwell's voice was steadily on the rise. "Gathos may not be our ideal of a hero, or even a military genius, but this is _his _territory, _his _campaign, and he's obviously not only computed the casualties against the eventual gain, but found them acceptable."

"'Casualties,' Colonel?" Weir said icily, her light green eyes narrowing. "'Acceptable'? I'm not sure those two words _ever_ belong in the same sentence. And, as I said before, I am _considering_ it. That is all."

The colonel shook his head, standing so fast his chair rolled back and bounced off the wall. Before it could complete the action, he stalked out of the briefing room.

Silence rippled across those remaining in his wake. Finally, Elizabeth spoke up again. "Teyla, Ronon – when, again, is Gathos expecting you?"

"A week," Teyla replied. "That is what he said in his meeting earlier today. We are to convene on Belsa and leave from there."

"A week," Weir repeated. "That doesn't give us very much time."

McKay returned his attention to his data pad and quickly figured a few things up with his stylus. "If I could get Zelenka and Hermiod to help me, we could have something ready in less than a week."

"You're certain?" Sheppard put his forearms on the table and leaned forward.

"As certain as I can be. I'm a genius, not a fortune teller."

Elizabeth hid a chuckle behind her hand. "And we'll also need a plan capable of saving everyone Gathos has deceived. All right then. Ronon, Teyla, what do you think?"

"In order to maintain the appearance of being unaware of Gathos's true intentions, I believe Ronon and I should return to the planet where we have set up our camp. While I do not believe anyone will come searching for us, it might look suspicious if someone does come and we are nowhere to be found."

Ronon glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, catching the secret smile she shot in his direction. He swallowed back the warm feelings that smile brought to his heart.

"All right then," Weir said, rising to her feet. "We'll talk it over here and let you know in a couple of days what has been decided."

Ronon and Teyla rose with their other two teammates and headed off to the gym. Before they left, they _were_ going to get in their sparring time.

**-Atlantis-**

Ronon hissed in frustration when Teyla blocked the blow he aimed at her side. He had to scramble to block the one she aimed for the side of his neck. "Okay, I give in!"

Teyla backed off a little and spun her Bantos rod, a little grin glowing in her eyes. "Too late, Ronon. You said it, and now I am giving you a chance to eat your words."

Looming defeat had never been quite so humiliating – and humbling – before. "Don't suppose I could have some salt with that?"

Teyla shrugged. "If that is what you wish." She leaped forward and struck out at him again.

He should have kept his mouth shut. Ronon blocked her blow and grunted when the tip of her rod jabbed him in the gut. He stumbled back a step, grasping her rod with his free hand while swinging his other toward her left bicep.

Teyla twisted away with a lithe gracefulness only she possessed. She wrapped both hands around the grip of her rod and yanked with all her strength, pulling him off-balance.

Ronon stumbled forward and dropped to one knee, throwing his shoulders forward into a sweep with his rod that he hoped would knock her legs out from beneath her.

She saw the move coming, but barely had time to escape it. The tip of his rod came so close to making contact it flipped up a dangling piece of her skirt and grazed the bare skin of her shin beneath. Before he could get his balance enough from the miss to vault to his feet, she had leaped behind him. Rod grasped in both hands, she pressed it against his throat and pulled the back of his head to a rest against her heaving abdomen. "Now _who_ is rusty?" she asked him, laughter bubbling from her voice.

He was quite sufficiently trapped and defeated. How had she moved that fast? And where had she learned that move – and why had she never used it against him before?

How absolutely infuriating. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless.

"I just haven't had much time to practice lately," he hedged a little.

"Hmm," she said knowingly. He was surprised when she released the gentle pressure on his throat and stepped back, but didn't argue.

Ronon scrambled to his feet and turned to face her, taking in her stance and her smirk in one quick look. "Where did you _ever_ learn to do that?"

"From the man who tutored me in sparring when I was a little girl on Athos," she told him. "I never believed it would work on you, though."

Ronon vowed to himself that he'd find a counter to that move before he sparred her again. "You just got lucky," he told her.

Teyla tapped the end of her rod against her opposite hand and smiled at him in a way that made his heartbeat quicken. "Yes, I did," she said softly. "I did indeed."

Now, suddenly, he understood what she'd meant by her earlier comment. _But maybe, just maybe now, we won't have to fight: not in Garros's faked war, or even against the Wraith for much longer._ His stomach tightened in sudden foreboding. _Somebody has to spread the truth, though, and if it goes badly at first – which it probably will— Ancestors, what if I never have a chance to spar with her again?_

Small hands clasped his face and tilted it so he was looking down into Teyla's worried eyes. "What is it?"

His jaw tightened. _Ancestors, don't make me lose her. They took Melena from me, don't let them take Teyla, too._ Unconsciously, he lifted his hands and curled them around her slender shoulders. "Promise me you'll be careful," he said desperately. Suddenly, it seemed more important than anything else to get her to promise him that. "Please, promise me."

Teyla's dark eyes were wide with confusion and alarm. "Ronon, what—"

"Please, Teyla, just promise me." _Somehow I know everything will be fine if she'll just promise me that._

A small nod. "Okay, Ronon. I promise – but only if you'll promise me the same."

At that moment, he would have promised her _anything._ "I promise." He hugged Teyla to him as tightly as he dared and buried his face in her hair.

The weight of another vow, this one silent and only to himself, settled across his shoulders. _Somehow I've got to keep her safe, no matter what I have to do._

He closed his eyes. This was war. And this time, it was personal.

_-To Be Continued-_

_**Oh my gosh, I've done it again! I apologize a million times over for the unplanned hiatus of "Long Way Back." This chapter has been sitting on my harddrive collecting dust for the past – eh – four and a half months or so. My beta and I have both been so busy with both RL and "Shattered" that we stupidly allowed this fic to slip our minds. It feels a tad abandoned. So, to apologize for the absurdly long wait, here is an 11-page update for you – an early Christmas pressie! I hope hope hope from here on out I can update somewhat regularly. Thank you for being so patient, and for all the reviews and support you've given this story, and I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter! Hope you all have safe and happy holidays!**_

**Voice of 1000 thoughts:** Thank you! I'm really glad that you enjoyed the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one – I'm sorry for the long wait!

**Hannah 554**: Thank you very much! Sometimes I find Ronon's thoughts a little hard to write (but extremely fun!), so I'm very glad that they're coming out okay for this fic. And I promise you'll find out who sent the assassin within the next five or so chapters. Thanks for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter – I'm sorry for the wait!

**Elfvamp 1-13-97**: Thank you! Ronon's just so happy right now that things are going halfway _right_ that no, he's not going to be upset that Teyla didn't say "love you" back. He knows. I'm really glad that you like my story, and I hope you enjoy this chapter – I'm sorry it took so long for me to update!

**StarSkimmer**: Thank you so much for your review – it gave me a much-needed smile! I must admit that the part where Ronon was thinking that he _had_ to focus on the tattoo and _not_ on kissing Teyla was my favorite part of the last chapter to write – and the kissing and making up was my second favorite, lol. I'm really glad you liked both parts. I apologize for the really long and unplanned hiatus this story took – and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**SpaceMonkey0941**: Thank you, I'm still sitting here blushing over that compliment, lol. Thank you, thank you. I can't _believe_ I've abandoned this fic for the past _five_ months, and I apologize for the long wait – here's the next chapter, and I hope you enjoy!

**Mistryja**: Thank you very much for your review! I'm really glad that you like my fic, and I am _so_ very sorry for taking so long to update it. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**monstermunch3435**: Thank you for the review! I'm really glad you like my fic, and I'm really sorry for taking an unplanned hiatus with it. Here's the update, and I hope you enjoy it!

**Bunnylass**: Wow, thank you so much! I got your review when I really needed some cheering up, so thank you thank you thank you! I'm very happy that you're enjoying my fic, and I am so sorry that it took me so long to update it again. Here's a really long chapter as an apology – I hope you enjoy!


	11. Tribulation

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 11/?

**-Chapter 10-**

_Tribulation_

Ronon shifted into a more comfortable position and leaned his head back against the cave wall. Outside, the gentle patter of raindrops on the tree leaves kept perfect tune with the soft sighing of Teyla's breath as she slept. Though the night was dark and moonless, there was a certain novel quality to the atmosphere.

He would miss this, the quiet calm and reassurance. Soon he and Teyla would have to return to Atlantis, and normal life. Though, he was quite sure things would never be _normal_ again. Not the normal they used to be, anyway.

Normal now was much better.

Ronon turned his gaze from the outdoors to look at Teyla. In the soft glow of the carefully-controlled fire they kept kindled inside the cave, her features looked angelic and calm. None of the dragging worry she felt during the day marred her sleep, and for that he was thankful. She needed a good night's rest for once.

He managed to tear his gaze from her and return it to the watch he was supposed to be on. They had been extra careful lately, making sure to dial their old planet before coming here. Even so, their night watch was maintained as an extra level of precaution. They did not want any more midnight assassins coming for them.

Shifting again, Ronon pulled a knife from concealment in his wristband and idly ran a finger along its sharp blade. He was careful not to press too hard and cut himself. Unbidden, his thoughts turned to Garros. Judging from the way the Athosian had reacted when he saw the blood on Teyla's sleeve, it had been so natural for him to assume that Ronon had struck Teyla. _Ancestors, did he beat her?_ His gaze slipped to Teyla again, and he thought a very unkind word. The notion of the man touching her – either in a romantic or a cruel way – made his stomach churn. Burning hatred ignited in his belly, finding much kindling there. He forcefully had to wrestle down the urge to break every bone in the man's evil body.

He clenched his teeth, just a little. He'd struggled with jealousy a lot lately when it came to Teyla – admittedly even before he had told her the truth about his feelings for her. While he'd known he had no claim on her, he still couldn't always clamp down on that irrational flash of resentment when another man looked appreciatively at her.

The Satedans – he had to stop and mentally correct himself – _his people_ had not made his struggle any easier. Recently many had come up to him and pleaded with him to return to his "rightful place" among what was left of the Satedan nation. Many of those invitations had also included Teyla, whom all had presumed to be his mate. It had not been hard to refuse to rejoin the Satedans. It had, however, been admittedly tougher to smother the warm, pleasant feelings that arose within him at the thought of Teyla being his mate.

He fought the urge to close his eyes. It had been very hard for him to let go of his life before being a Runner, to close that chapter of his life and begin anew with the Atlantians. With Teyla. His homeworld, so powerful and advanced; his people, so strong and proud. Most of all, his wife, Melena. She was opposite of Teyla in every way: pale skin instead of brown; red-gold hair instead of gold-brown; pale blue eyes instead of warm brown; a healer instead of a warrior. He'd loved her, more than he'd ever thought he could anyone.

He'd lost her.

That was another thing he'd been fighting recently – the nightmares, back and twice as horrible as they'd ever been before. He would _always_ dream of that unspeakable day on Sateda, but sometimes it was Melena who was caught in the explosion and sometimes it was Teyla. Either way, the woman he loved died.

Now he was struggling so hard to hold on to Teyla, to keep her from suffering the same fate. He wasn't strong enough to endure cradling what was left of _her_ broken, burned, and bloodied – irrecoverably dead – body in his arms.

If he lost Teyla, he'd lose himself.

Ronon put the knife away so he could bury his face in his hands. It was wrong, it was selfish, but he knew that if it came down to it he would rather sacrifice the entire galaxy if it meant ensuring her safety. She would be horrified if she knew he thought that, which was why he'd never tell her. But he loved her so much, and the thought of losing her hurt too much even to consider anything else. He wanted to send her back to Atlantis where it was safe. But she would never go and he could never force her. She could take care herself, there was no doubt in his mind of that. Yet still, everything inside him yearned to keep her locked up and safe, where nothing bad could ever get close to her.

That would never do, either. He admired her fighting spirit too much ever to do that to her.

Ronon lifted his head and glanced at Teyla again, tracing the features of her delicate face with his eyes. It took genuine effort for him to turn away and look back out the cave entrance. By now, the rain had stopped, leaving everything wet and slick. The clouds were moving on, and the first hint of dawn lightened the horizon beyond the trees.

Somehow, during the course of the night, the world had lost its beauty. This return of day meant that he had one less day, one less night, with Teyla. Whether their deaths lay a few days from now or far into the future, there would never be enough time.

His hands tightened into fists. _If it ever comes to a situation where it is either you live, or I live, I _will_ make sure _you_ survive, Teyla. I _promise_ you._

**-M37J91-**

"I'm bored." Ronon dropped down on the ground next to Teyla and rested his chin on her shoulder. He gazed at her face with pleading eyes, hoping to see her smile. He _lived_ for that smile.

She didn't open her eyes, but her lips did curl upwards into the hoped-for smile. "Meditation is a good way of learning patience, Ronon." There was a definite laugh in her voice.

Ronon sighed and kissed her neck before surrendering and folding himself into a meditation position to match hers. "Okay then, fine. Teach me."

Teyla's eyes snapped open, and she turned to face him. "_Promise_ me you will not fall asleep?" She leaned forward, her face close to his, eyes searching his for honesty.

Ronon leaned forward to close the little distance between them so he could kiss her. "Promise."

Teyla caught the back of his neck and held him in place so she could return the kiss with interest. "I trust you to keep that promise, Ronon. Otherwise. . ." She left the threat dangling and returned to her former position.

"Hey, is anyone here? Hello-o-o-o-o!"

The rather rude intrusion made Ronon groan. He'd recognize Rodney McKay's grating yell anywhere. "We're in here! Hang on!"

Teyla had already lifted herself gracefully to her feet and was heading for the mouth of the cave. Ronon caught her hand and held her back in the shadows for a moment, however. He hugged her to him and placed his lips close to her ear. "After this is over, no more secrets. I want – I want everyone to know that—" He sighed.

She smiled and turned her head to bury her face in his neck. "I am yours, Ronon. And when this is over, _everyone_ will know." Her lips brushed his cheek as she carefully withdrew from him and left the cave.

Ronon followed only a step behind her, wishing the lingering warmth of her touch was enough to melt the icy knot in his stomach. Their coming meant one of two things: either McKay had come up with a way for the Atlantians to put Garros's plan in action, or something had changed. Either way, it _had_ to be bad news they were bringing.

Sheppard and McKay were gazing around Ronon and Teyla's small, homey campsite when the Athosian and Satedan emerged from their "house." Immediately their teammates redirected their attention to them.

"Nice," the colonel commented. "Very homey feel."

McKay was still looking around. "No shower, no stove, no microwave, no coffee machine, no _bed_ – how can you live like this?"

Ronon pressed his lips together to hold in his laughter.

Teyla, whose expression never changed from the same peaceful look she wore during meditation, spoke for them both. "Ronon lived like this for seven years, Rodney, and I was born and raised in a nomadic tribe. _This_ life may mean we live simply and do not have machines to prepare our food for us – we may even have to hunt down our next meal _ourselves_ – but it is peaceful and fulfilling." Her tone was firm but not scolding.

Rodney looked surprised. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean to imply – I was just—"

Sheppard rescued him. "Have you heard anything further from Gathos or his cronies?"

Teyla moved toward the fallen logs they used as benches and motioned for Sheppard and McKay to sit. Ronon silently followed and sat next to Teyla, but just far enough away so there was no body contact between them.

"No," Teyla said in answer to Sheppard's question. "I doubt we will see any of them until the day of their 'war.'" There was a certain bitter twist her voice added to that word.

McKay seemed to have recovered from his earlier blunder. "We're closer to a plan, at least. Of course, we won't actually _know_ if my plan is going to work until we get out there and execute it, but—"

"Excuse me, _your_ plan?" Sheppard gave him an incredulous look.

The scientist huffed impatiently. "Okay, fine, so Hermiod made a suggestion and Zelenka added in his two cents' worth."

Sheppard coughed pointedly but corrected McKay no more.

"So, providing that all goes well on Belsa, it shouldn't be _any_ problem at all to take over Gathos's plan and blow up all the Hives."

"And what's _going_ to happen on Belsa?" Ronon asked suspiciously.

"Crowd control." McKay waved his hand absently. "Just wait for Houdini and run crowd control. No problem."

Ronon and Teyla stared blankly at the scientist.

Sheppard took pity on them. "We're going to disguise Lorne and a couple of Marine teams and have them in the crowd. That way all you have to do when the Stargate shuts down is run crowd control. Explain to them what's going on, and try to calm them down, and all that."

"Sounds simple," Ronon commented dryly.

"Simpler than what _I'm_ going to have to do," McKay snapped.

"_We_, Rodney, _we_. You know, you've got a problem with teams, don't you?" Sheppard sounded a bit testy himself.

"Okay, fine, _we_. Zelenka, Sheppard, and I are going to be in a jumper ready to implement _our_ part of the plan – or _our_ version of Gathos's plan." He turned to glare at Sheppard. "Better?"

"A little." Sheppard looked back and forth between Ronon and Teyla. "So, you think you can handle things on Belsa?"

"With some help, yes." Teyla sounded confident.

Ronon forced himself to match her confidence. "Sure, with the Marines and Lorne. I have a friend, Solen Sincha – he could help, too. We can trust him."

Teyla nodded. "I have met him. He is a good, trustworthy man."

Sheppard nodded. "So he's not going to go berserk when you tell him that Gathos is planning to blow everyone up and we're planning on saving everyone?" At Ronon and Teyla's shakes of the head, the colonel grinned. "Excellent. We need all the help we can get for crowd control." He turned to McKay. "Is that all, McKay, or do you want to stay and eat their porridge, and sleep on their beds?"

"Huh? Oh." Rodney looked up from his omnipresent data pad with an abstracted smile. "Sorry. I'm having to work night and day, since there's only three days left until Zero Hour, and Zelenka isn't being much help, and—"

"And you're constantly being overworked, underpaid, and underappreciated," Sheppard finished by rote, grasping the scientist's sleeve and dragging him up with him. "Nice to see you guys again. Atlantis just hasn't been the same without you."

Ronon and Teyla stood up as well. "We have missed you, too," Teyla said, and Ronon nodded in agreement.

"If all goes well, we'll see you back on Atlantis in three days."

"See you," Ronon and Teyla echoed as Sheppard and McKay disappeared back into the woods. Their voices, raised in one of their mock arguments, eventually faded into the distance.

"Well, we're alone again," Ronon said.

Teyla smiled faintly. "Not completely. We have each other."

He appreciated her attempt at being positive and hugged her to tell her so. "That's true. We'll _always_ have each other."

Teyla leaned her forehead against his chest. "I hope you're right about that, Ronon."

That persistent, icy ache was back. "Me too, Teyla. Me too."

**-Belsa-**

Teyla made her way through the ranks of soldiers gathered on Belsa, looking for her and Ronon's company. She knew it was only a matter of time now until this excited, buzzing crowd became an angry, outraged _mob_. She, Ronon, Solen, Lorne, and the Marine teams hopefully were prepared enough to calm them down with no bloodshed.

She found a place to stand and glanced around casually. Ronon was a few people down from her, close but not too close. They didn't want to draw needless attention to themselves. A few rows down and over, she saw Major Lorne. She also managed to spot a few other familiar faces in the crowd, but for the most part they were all strangers.

This was not comforting.

At the front of the crowd, by the Stargate, Teyla spotted Garros surrounded by his omnipresent personal guard of three tall, muscular men. The four were huddled together next to the DHD and seemed deep in conversation.

Teyla tore her gaze away and squinted up at the sky. It lacked only a few minutes now until Garros would start his speech. When finished, he would dial the Gate, he and his guards would step through, and then the Gate would shut down before the rank and file of soldiers could follow.

And then, undoubtedly, the chaos would erupt.

She casually turned to monitor her immediate area. Everyone looked like they were ready to go to war, clueless to the danger they would be in if they did. For a moment, she almost wished she was as naïve as they, because knowing what was coming was making a knot form in her gut. She just _knew_ something was going to go horribly wrong. As she'd once heard Rodney say: for them, trouble was an unavoidable universal constant.

Teyla returned her gaze to the front of the crowd, watching as Garros turned to scan the soldiers before him. His two guards stepped up on either side of him, obviously watching for any threats—

She blinked. _Two_ guards?

"Don't turn around, and don't make a sound."

Teyla stiffened when she heard the voice from behind her and immediately knew where the third guard had gone. She tipped her head a little to the side to let the man behind her know she was listening.

"Garros isn't going to let you fight in this war. He's planning on getting you off the planet and taking you somewhere far away, where you'll be safe – and _his_." The guard's tone left no room for doubt of what _that_ meant.

Teyla's spine stiffened. "And if I refuse to come?" she asked with steel in her voice.

A low chuckle dripped from the guard's voice. "Then you might as well go say goodbye to your lover. There's a sniper aiming for his head right now, waiting for a signal from me. If you come along quietly and peacefully, we'll let him live. If not, I'll signal the sniper and he'll drop Dex."

Reflexively, Teyla looked up, trying to spot the sniper.

"What's the answer? I'm getting impatient."

Teyla turned her head to the side, looking down the row to Ronon. He stood casually, his hand dangling close to his gun. His sharp eyes scanned the crowd, looking for trouble. He had no idea that the trouble wasn't anywhere down in the crowd, but above him. . .

She forced herself to look away from him and nod. A knot welled up into her throat and nearly choked her. She had to swallow twice before she could speak. "Very well."

Garros was a monster, and she was heading right into his claws – and, after that, to a planet on the verge of being obliterated.

But she knew that it was all worth it, so long as Ronon would live. . .

**-Belsa-**

Ronon stood poised and ready for when the action would start, knowing it was only a matter of time now. He scanned the crowd casually, trying to gauge who might be the worst trouble when everything started happening.

He spotted Lorne a few rows ahead of him, also scanning the crowd. Suddenly the major's expression turned puzzled as he gazed intently at something off to his right.

Ronon followed Lorne's gaze and blinked when he saw Teyla working her way through the soldiers toward the front of the crowd – and Garros. Her eyes were intent on the exiled Athosian, a determined expression on her face and a dark look in her eyes.

"Teyla?" Surely that wasn't her – it was just a woman who looked like her. He turned his head further and looked down the row to where she had been.

She was gone.

"Teyla!" Unconsciously he raised his voice. Unthinkingly he broke out of line, trying to find a clear path through the crowd to follow her. Unfortunately, he wasn't as small as Teyla and had trouble catching up. She kept getting farther and farther away, slipping out of his grasp even more every passing moment.

What was she _doing_?

". . .And now we _fight_!"

Garros's voice, raised in a falsely victorious cry, registered in Ronon's mind only moments before the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers.

He hissed a steady stream of vile Satedan epithets as he pushed through the crowd, not worried now if he was noticed or not. The Gate was dialing, and he was very rapidly running out of time.

Teyla stood with her arm in the firm grasp of one of Garros's guards, calmly watching as the Stargate activated. It didn't seem to affect her at all that the portal before her connected Belsa with the world that, should she step through the Gate, would become the place where she would die.

"Teyla, _what_ are you _doing_?" He knew she couldn't hear him over the crowd, but he _had_ to ask the question.

She looked out over the crowd once before the guard tugged her with him toward the Stargate. For a moment her eyes met his, and a flicker of pain seared across her face.

Then, she was gone.

"No, no, _NO_!" Ronon finally burst free from the crowd and covered the last ten yards between them and the Gate in the dead-on run that had kept him alive for seven years while a Runner.

Panic rivaled adrenaline as he leaped through the Stargate after her.

**-Belsa-**

Lorne focused on movement in the crowd down the row from him. He squinted, focusing, wondering what was going on. . .

_Teyla?_ He was surprised to see the petite Athosian working her way through the crowd, moving steadily toward the front and Gathos. _What is she doing?_

He pulled back the sleeve of his shirt and looked at his watch – less than three minutes until show time. Gathos had already started his speech, pumping up the crowd and getting them excited and bloodthirsty. It wouldn't be easy to get them under control once Gathos and his bodyguards were through.

Another commotion caught his attention. Lorne stared in shock as he watched Ronon push through the crowd, his eyes focused on Teyla's rapidly retreating form and a furious look on his face. His lips were moving rapidly, and from what Lorne could make out he wasn't saying anything _nice_.

He felt like he'd just been thrown in the middle of a high-risk hostage situation with no explanations as to what was going on or what he was supposed to do to defuse it.

The Stargate activated, yanking Marcus's attention back in that direction. He saw Gathos step through, the slightest shade of a smirk on his lips. Two guards followed, then the third – who was dragging Teyla alongside him.

This was very rapidly going south, and Lorne had no idea how to salvage it. They'd had contingency plans for a lot of things, but Teyla getting kidnapped and Ronon careening headfirst after her was _definitely_ not one of them!

It was too late. Teyla was already through, and there were no Marines close enough to catch Ronon before he leaped through the Stargate after her, his tall form disappearing through the shimmering pool only a moment before the Gate itself vanished in a bright flash of light:

The _Daedalus_, in orbit, beaming up the Stargate to prevent everyone else from following Gathos.

As chaos erupted around him, Lorne stared at the place where the Gate had been and thought two panicked words. _Oh, _crap

_-To Be Continued-_

_**Wow, another long chapter! Please don't kill me for the evil cliffie, I'll try to have another chapter up before Christmas, and if not before, then soon after. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you have a safe and Merry Christmas!**_

**SpaceMonkey0941**: -bounces excitedly- Yay! Thank you, I'm sooo glad that line came out very Rodney-like. He'd been poking me with that for a long time, demanding I find somewhere for him to say that. So I stuck it in. More snarky Rodney (plus John!) in this chapter, plus fluffy Spanky and. . . Well, you'll see. -wink- Thanks for the review and the compliments, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Merry Christmas!!

**Elfvamp 1-13-97**: Thank you so much! I'm so sorry it took so long for the last update, and I tried to be very quick getting this one up. Thanks again, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Merry Christmas to you, too!!

**Bunnylass**: WOW! Thank you! I'm blushing – and very flattered that my fic is one of your favorites. Thank you. :) I loved writing Teyla kicking Ronon's butt the last chapter, and Gathos's evil little plan just keeps getting worse and worse. . .lol. I tried to get this chapter up pretty quick to try to make up for that lo-o-o-ng hiatus earlier – I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the review, and I hope you have a Merry Christmas!!

**AthosionWarrior**: Thank you! I'm really glad you liked the last chapter, and I really did try to get this one up fairly quickly after the last one – and I'll try to follow suit with the next. Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you have a Merry Christmas!!

**Hannah 554**: Wow, thank you! I must admit, after writing them for so long off-world, I think I could sympathize with how they were feeling because it did feel a tad strange writing them back on Atlantis. And as far as Ronon's thoughts, sometimes it is hard to try to climb into his head and figure out what he would say or do or think. I'm really glad that it's all coming out well. :) And definitely -yay!- for Lorne. I was so happy to find a place for him in the last chapter, and there's more of him in this chapter. I tried to get this chapter out pretty quick, and I'll try really hard to do the same with the next. -hugs you back- Thanks again so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Merry Christmas!!


	12. Strife

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 12/?

**-Chapter 11-**

_Strife_

"You know, Rodney, sometimes I wonder about your sanity."

Zelenka, seated in one of the rear jump seats, nodded enthusiastic agreement to John's comment.

"Oh, ha-ha, very funny." McKay glared. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am in the middle of very important calculations, and I think we would _all_ very much appreciate it if I didn't blow us all up. So, let me ask you this, Colonel Sarcastic – would you like those to be your last words?"

"They would be ironic," John said. "I mean, I would be questioning your sanity if you did blow us all up, accident or no."

Rodney rather looked like he'd swallowed a lemon, with his lips puckered and his face an interesting shade of purple. "Bah!" he growled, then went back to his data pad.

Radek laughed, then deadpanned when Rodney turned to glare at him.

John lounged back in the pilot's seat and tucked his hands behind his head. _Y'know, there's just nothing like floating out in space in a cloaked jumper, waiting for the Wraith to show up so you can blow up a sun, and try to beat the explosion back to Atlantis. Yep, nothing like it._

Rodney's data pad chirped, and he laughed. "Ha! I knew it."

"What?" John leaned over the DHD, trying to get a good look at the data pad. "What'd you do?"

McKay clutched the computer to his chest. "Nothing you'd understand." He went right on to contradict himself by saying, "I just proved that Colonel Carter's method of blowing up a sun is _so_ not the right way. Black holes just open up a whole new can of worms."

Losing interest, John leaned back in his seat again. He glanced behind him, caught Radek's eloquent roll of the eyes, and grinned. He was tired of his teammate's constant attempts to prove Carter wrong – wasn't it good enough to be the self-proclaimed best astrophysicist in the Pegasus galaxy?

John hummed a few bars of the opening theme from _Independence Day_; then quickly thought better of it and innocently went about checking the HUD for any unusual activity. The little ship happily brought up the transparent display interposed over the windscreen.

John studied the readouts, immersing himself in the Ancient writing. A small, blinking warning in the bottom right corner caught his eye. He shook his head and squinted at it. _Huh_? "Uh, Rodney?"

"_What_? Can't you see I'm _trying_ to work here?"

John pointed at the HUD. "By any chance, have you deployed our sun-detonation-bomb already?"

"Why would you ask a stupid—" Rodney looked up. He stared openmouthed at the HUD for a brief second, then turned to glare at Zelenka. "Oh, great, what'd you do?"

The Czech leaned forward to study the HUD. "Oh, no, Rodney, do not try to blame this on me! I have done _nothing_ wrong!"

McKay muttered a curse. "Not good not good not good not _good_. Not at all."

"What is it? What's going on?" While John could read the Ancient writing, he couldn't comprehend the garbled mish-mash of scientific terms that only an astrophysicist would understand.

A deep groan ripped out of Rodney. "Oh, no." Fists clenched, he slumped forward over the co-pilot's controls. "I can't _believe_ this is happening! That blasted, ego-tripping, power-snatching—"

"Hey!" John said, raising his voice. "Can we stop with the name-calling long enough to fill me in on what's going on?"

Zelenka tore his eyes from the HUD to stare at John, his expression very sober and very panicked at the same time. "Something is very wrong. Sun is already well into process of going supernova."

So far, John didn't see anything too terribly wrong with this – though Radek dropping his articles was never a good sign. He felt his gut tighten uneasily. "So? Isn't that a good thing? I mean, it saves us a lot of trouble."

"No, no, _no_, you're not getting this!" Rodney's head snapped up, revealing a pasty-pale face. "We need to leave _right now_. And, by right now, I mean twenty minutes ago!"

_And McKay going that particular shade of pale was an even worse sign of trouble than Zelenka losing the finer points of his English._ John's hands reached automatically for the pilot's controls, even as he again demanded, "_Why_?"

"Because I said so!" McKay wildly waved his arms. "Look, the jumper has detected an artificial isotope in the atmosphere of the sun. That isotope is nudging it rapidly ever-closer towards a supernova stage. When the Wraith Hive ships exit hyperspace – which will start happening in a _very_ few minutes now – the solar atmosphere will become even _more_ destabilized, the sun will go supernova, and _anything and anyone_ left in this system is going to be blasted into nothing more than _widely_ scattered atoms and a memory!"

_Oh. _"Okay, so we go and just let _everything_ take care of itself. . ."

The console in front of him beeped, distracting him from McKay's portents of doom. He pressed the button to answer the hail. "Sheppard here."

"Sir! Major Lorne here, on Belsa. We've – got a bit of a problem, sir."

_Oh, great. As if we don't already have _enough_ problems on our hands. . ._ John had never heard the usually unshakable major quite so – well, _shaken_. "And what would that be, Major?"

"Sir, I can hardly believe. . . Gathos's guards took Teyla through the Gate, and then Ronon just _dove_ through after them, and then the _Daedalus_ beamed up the Stargate as planned, and everything's gone south here, and. . . Sir, what do we do?"

_A _bit_ of a problem?_ Lorne had definitely been under-exaggerating the situation. He sensed more than saw Radek sag heavily back into his seat. "Major Lorne, are you telling me that Ronon and Teyla are actually _on_ the planet right _now_?"

"Yes sir! Don't blow the sun yet – you've got to retrieve them before you do!"

John seriously considered banging his forehead against the closed hatch of the jumper. . . A bulkhead. . . Maybe even just the edge of the console. . . "Okay, thank you for the heads up, Major. We'll take care of it."

"Yes sir!" The radio clicked off.

McKay stared at him, his face an impossible shade whiter. John expected him to pass out or scream at any second. "No, no, no!" The Canadian's voice went progressively higher in pitch and volume with each "no." "_Why_ can't anyone understand how horribly _bad_ this is?!"

Sheppard stared implacably back at him as he said sternly, "Just hit the pause button or something, McKay. We go get Ronon and Teyla, come back to restart the sun, and then escape back through the Stargate and be home in time for dinner. No sweat."

"'No sweat,' the man says. Sheppard, you _don't get it_! I _can't_ just 'pause' the sun! This is an irreversible process which is rapidly counting down to detonation! I can't stop it, pause it, or reverse it! The Wraith Hives are going to start dropping out of hyperspace in a matter of_ minutes_. After only a dozen or so have exited, this whole system is going to blow, and even hyperspace, not to mention subspace, will be affected by the blast wave!"

"Okay, okay, I get it! Take a chill pill, Rodney, I'm thinking!" He stared at the HUD. The little blinking warning in the bottom corner seemed even _more_ ominous than before. "Once we're close enough to the planet, we can track Ronon and Teyla by their subcutaneous transmitters. And we don't have to come back here since you say the sun's going to blow without our help, so we can just nip straight home through the gate, right?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Okay, good. Hang on, kids, 'cause we're goin' on a rescue mission!"

**-M77UA3-**

By now, Teyla no longer cared what happened to her. She did cherish knowing Ronon was no longer in danger, because the Stargate would shut down any second now, leaving him safe on Belsa. Given that, it didn't matter what evil things Garros had planned for her.

Garros nodded to the thug still holding on to Teyla, who immediately twisted Teyla's arms behind her back. Pulling a knife, the rebellious Athosian stepped toward her. He quickly yanked the left shoulder of Teyla's coat down; then, quickly making a shallow cut on her arm just below the shoulder, he removed her subcutaneous transmitter. With an evil smile, he dropped it, crushing it beneath his boot. He stepped back and nodded to his henchman.

As soon as the thug released her, Teyla reached up to press her shaking hand over the wound. How had Garros found out about the small tracking devices used by the Atlantians? She knew she should be concerned about his knowledge, even though she was too numb emotionally to feel it. Already it seemed like hours since they'd left Belsa, though in truth it had only been moments. And she missed Ronon so much. . .

As if in response to her thoughts, the event horizon rippled and seemed to spit out Ronon. He must have been moving very quickly when he'd entered, because he exited at a speed that seemed _impossible_, and he was so _far_ off the ground. . .! Horror flashed through Teyla when she realized that Ronon's trajectory was too far off to have been intended, and that meant—

Behind Teyla, Garros cried out in surprise. His three guards were already reaching for their weapons, their shock and surprise giving way to pure instinct.

She flinched at the sickening thud made by the side of Ronon's head coming into sharp contact with the edge of the DHD. In what seemed like slow motion, he fell away from the Ancestral device. His left shoulder hit the ground before he rolled to a stop only a few feet away – just out of her reach. He moaned once, then made no other moves or sounds.

The Stargate shut down with a harsh sucking sound that snapped her out of her stupor. "_Ronon!_" She started toward him, her heart pounding in utter panic.

Garros reached out to grab her wounded arm, squeezing and twisting to make her stop. A wicked expression twisted his face and gleamed in his eyes as he stared at Ronon's motionless body. "_Finish him off!_" he yelled at his guards. "And by the Ancestors, _make it hurt_!"

A red haze of rage blotted out all rational thought in Teyla's mind. With a cry like a wounded animal's, she threw up her right hand and spun. Bone crunched beneath the heel of her hand as it came in contact with Garros's nose. Blood spurted over her hand. He let go of her and backed off, cursing and clutching at his face.

As soon as she was free, Teyla was in motion again, the pain in her arm long forgotten, washed away by the adrenaline and hate pumping through her. She leaped forward and got her hands around one of the guards' weapon. Throwing her entire body weight against him, she managed to turn him so the bullet meant for Ronon's gut instead lodged in one of the other guards' chest. As he dropped soundlessly, his gun harmlessly discharging into the sky, Teyla spun with a feral growl, jabbing her lifted knee into the first guard's groin. With his grasp on his gun loosening as he doubled over, yowling in agony, she yanked it away and struck him across the back of the head with the grip. He groaned and slumped forward, then lay motionless.

The final guard, having recovered his senses, swung his weapon around towards her. Teyla ducked low and hurled herself forward, tackling him at the waist and knocking him over backwards. Straddling his chest, she raised her hand for a web hand strike; thought better of it at the last moment and curled her hand into a fist. She struck him across the face so hard she felt his temple crack upon contact.

His head lolled, unconscious.

Fingers curled into her hair and yanked upwards, snapping her head back even as she was dragged to her feet. Teyla screamed. Still in the grip of her berserker rage, she blindly lashed out at Garros. He caught her fist, twisting her arm behind her back as he dug his fingers into her open wound. "You've ruined my mission!" he panted into her ear.

"It is no more than you deserve!" Teyla cried, trying to ignore the nauseating pain in her arm. "You have destroyed my _life_!" She pointed at Ronon with her free hand.

"It is no more than _he_ deserves for trying to steal what is mine!" Garros dragged her towards the woods, growling curses at her. Teyla looked back over her shoulder as she stumbled after him.

_Ronon!_

**-M77UA3-**

John angled Jumper One's nose for the surface of the planet, his mind half on guiding the ship and half on his teammates. "Are you reading their transmitters yet, McKay?" he demanded.

Rodney banged out commands on the co-pilot's sensor controls, his gaze focused on the HUD. "I've got one, close to the Stargate. Not reading the other, though. . ." Sheppard caught the quick sideways look McKay shot towards him. "Of course, they could be so close together they're registering as one. . ."

"Where one is, the other probably is also," John agreed quickly. With a glance at the little blinking dot, he ordered the jumper to head for that position as quickly as was safely possible.

"Um, if I may remind you we are working on time table. . ." Radek was staring wide-eyed through the windscreen, his face quite noticeably green.

"It's okay, Doc. No problem." The reassurance was equally automatic. "We'll have Ronon and Teyla and be gone before we even have to worry about it."

"Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry," Rodney chanted under his breath. He looked rapidly back and forth between the HUD and his hand-held computer. "The Wraith are _coming_ very very soon, it would be preferable for us to be _gone_ by the time they arrive—"

"Yes, yes, Rodney, hush. I'm working on it." John focused his gaze on the rapidly-approaching surface, already looking for his errant teammates. The sooner they got them on board, the sooner they could leave.

"Oh, no."

John unconsciously echoed the sentiment as he spotted the four bodies lying sprawled close to the DHD. It wasn't hard to recognize Ronon among them – neither was it hard to see that the tall Satedan wasn't moving. Of Teyla, there was no sign at all.

As soon as he landed the jumper, John slammed his hand down on the control to open the hatch. He followed Rodney and Radek out, jumping over the body of a man he presumed to be one of Gathos's personal guard. He didn't pause to check if the man was still alive – he'd very obviously been shot through the heart.

"Colonel," Radek called from where he crouched between the other two unknown men. "This one is still alive, that one," he shrugged fatalistically, "not for much longer."

"Forget them!" Rodney interrupted harshly from where he knelt next to Ronon, his expression bleak. "Sheppard, come here, quick!"

John fell to his knees next to his teammates, his eyes focused on the blood freely running down the side of Ronon's face and into his dreadlocks. The Satedan's left arm was also twisted at an unnatural angle beneath him – undoubtedly his shoulder was out of socket.

McKay looked sick as he shot out his assessment in staccato bursts. "Lorne said Ronon jumped through while the Stargate was still activated, just before it was beamed up to the _Daedalus_ – the extra energy surge must have made the wormhole go haywire, throwing him out at an unstable trajectory – he didn't have a chance. . ."

John pushed Rodney out of the way and pressed his fingers against Ronon's neck. "He's still alive." Without taking time to think too much about what he had to do, John braced himself and popped Ronon's shoulder back into its socket. It slid into place with a nauseating _crack_!

McKay groaned and turned green. Behind him, Sheppard heard Zelenka retch. Ronon's whole body jerked. He moaned loudly, but did not regain consciousness.

"It's okay, big guy," Sheppard said softly, carefully laying Ronon's arm across his body and drawing the other one up over it. "Rodney," he said more loudly, "help me get him into the jumper."

McKay continued to stare blankly at his teammate. "What if his neck is broken? We can't risk moving him—"

"I'm not an idiot, McKay!" Sheppard ground out through gritted teeth. "We have to take the chance. Or would you rather leave him here to _blow up_ with the planet?" As John intended, his little reminder galvanized Rodney into robotic action enough to help carry Ronon into the back of the jumper. Zelenka silently followed, scooting past them to grab the medical kit and kneel next to the Satedan when they lowered him to the floor of the rear bay.

"Stay with him, Radek. Now, where's Teyla?" John followed Rodney back to the front of the jumper.

"I don't know!" Rodney snapped, staring wide-eyed at the HUD. "I can't find any trace of her locater beacon – maybe Gathos removed it! For that matter, she – they – may not even _be_ on the planet any more! Which brings up the question: _Why_ did Gathos kidnap her in the first place?"

"We'll ask when we find her! Scan for life signs!" John snapped. "We don't _have_ to just look for her transmitter!"

Rodney rapidly input another command into the sensor's controls. Immediately, two small white dots popped up, moving away from the jumper. "There!" he cried, pointing. "That must be – oh, no."

A small beeping noise prompted his comment, as another small window popped up on the HUD. John stared at it, dread tying cold knots in his stomach. "McKay, please don't tell me that means what I _think_ it means. . ."

Rodney nodded without looking at him, an expression of absolute horror on his face. "The first Wraith ship just dropped into the system," he all but whispered. "We're almost out of time!"

_-To Be Continued-_

_**Another evil cliffie – please don't kill me! The next chapter is already written, I'm just waiting for my beta to read it over, so it'll probably be up either Christmas Day or the day after. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I hope you have a safe and Merry Christmas!**_

**AthosionWarrior**: Thank you, I'm glad! Here's the new update: Thanks for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Merry Christmas!

**Bunnylass**: The last chapter _was_ really long – I hadn't noticed before! Thank you! I must admit that the sweet scene with Ronon and Teyla was my favorite part to write – other than the cliffhanger, lol. I totally agree – I _hate_ writing Garros! Him and his evil little plans. . . And you're right, poor Lorne, everything was going so smoothly, and then _everything_ had to go wrong at once! I'm really glad you liked the last update, and I hope you like this one! Merry Christmas!

**Hannah 554**: Thank you! I am so glad that Ronon is still coming out well, though I'm afraid there's not much of him in this chapter. I promise, Garros and his minions _are_ going to get what's coming to them – eventually. LOL I loved writing Lorne in the last chapter, though I kind of felt bad for letting everything go wrong around him! There is a little bit of him in this chapter, though. Here's the next update: the next one should be either on or right after Christmas. Thank you so much for your compliment! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and Merry Christmas!

**TeylaFan**: Thank you! Here's the next update, and the next should be either on or right after Christmas. I'm really glad you liked the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one! Merry Christmas! (And I love your screen name!)

**Elfvamp 1-13-97**: Please don't go crazy! You're right, I don't want to do that to a faithful reviewer! Here's the next update, and the next should be up either on or right after Christmas (I hope. It's already written, I'm just waiting for my beta – but she might surprise me and send it to me early! So I'll post it as soon as she gets it to me). Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Merry Christmas!

**Monstermunch3435**: LOL I'm really glad you like my story, and here's the next update! I hope you enjoy, and the next should be up either on Christmas or right after. Hope you have a Merry Christmas!


	13. Shockwave

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 13/?

**-Chapter 12-**

_Shockwave_

Teyla stumbled after Garros down the winding forest trail, the searing agony in her arm fueling her rage and hatred. Garros had caused so much pain, so much anger, in her life. Taking her away from Ronon -- the man she did _truly_ love and trust -- was the final straw.

Planting her feet, she reared back, yanking Garros off-balance and causing him to stumble for a brief moment. He quickly regained his footing and instantly spun towards her, his fist coming around to slam her across the face. Teyla ducked even more quickly, dropping into a crouch to sweep her ex-betrothed's legs out from beneath him. As soon as he was down she leaped up again, right foot swinging in repeated powerful kicks: payback for everything he'd ever done to her. Some remote part of her mind protested that she shouldn't be like this, that this bloody, violent revenge was not her way. But she stifled that part of her, too crazy with grief and rage to listen.

"Now _you_ will die," she screamed furiously. "And I promise you _I will make it hurt_!"

Garros, grunting with the effort, caught her foot with his left hand as it swung toward him again. He grabbed her left ankle with his free hand and yanked it towards him as he threw his shoulders up and forward. Half a second later, Teyla hit the ground hard. In a flash, Garros straddled her, his knees digging painfully into her ribs on either side.

"Teyla," he wheezed, "my betrothed, when will you ever learn that I am the stronger of us two? In -- every -- way!" He slammed his fists at her face.

Gasping in frustration, Teyla threw up both arms in an x-block to protect her face from his blows. His fists ramming against her shielding arms sent pain jarring down to her shoulders. Additional adrenaline surged through her, fueled by even greater rage and hate. Twisting lithely under him, she brought her right leg up and over to plant her right boot heel firmly against the pressure point on the outside of his right knee. As his grip loosened on that side, she simultaneously heaved her hips to her left and shoved her right hand powerfully against his left shoulder. Garros toppled sideways heavily, a choked breath gasping out of him.

As soon as she was free, Teyla jumped to her feet again. Garros rolled almost as quickly onto his, his face twisted into a demented snarl. Her memories flashed to that hated night when she'd fought him outside her childhood refuge on Athos, and she screamed a defiant curse at him. He hunched his body forward and rushed at her, his arms out to tackle her around the waist. Teyla stood her ground. Catching him by the shoulders, she used his own momentum to slam her uplifted knee into his lower chest. Even though she missed his solar plexus, she felt a couple of his floating ribs crack from the force of the blow.

Garros groaned and collapsed, but his wildly-flailing right hand found her leg. He instinctively grabbed hold, his thumb seeking for one of the pressure points on the inside of her thigh. Finding it, he squeezed. Instantly her entire leg went numb. She slammed a backfisted blow to the side of his face, forcing him to let go.

Teyla hissed a breath through her teeth as she awkwardly backed away, rubbing frantically to try to return some measure of feeling to her leg. Garros, still on his hands and knees and breathing in hard, shallow gasps, also took a moment to recover himself.

"You fight dirty." Glaring provocatively at her, he coughed and spat some blood out of his mouth. Slowly he sagged over onto his uninjured side. "It seems I did -- choose -- the perfect mate. We could go far -- together."

"I was never yours! I will never _be_ yours!" Renewed anger flushed through her, and she lunged for him, fully intending to kick his head from his shoulders. She realized her mistake when he dodged away from her kick, instead capturing her other leg between his and tripping her. She slammed backwards onto the forest floor, her breath whooshing out of her lungs on impact. Her vision went dim around the edges. Before she could recover herself, Garros threw himself on top of her, pinning her entire body with his weight, holding her legs clamped together with his. Tears of impotent fury flooded Teyla's eyes as she did the only thing left to her: She used what little breath she'd managed to recover to growl at him, and then spat in his face.

Garros shifted his body to plant one forearm across her throat as he wiped the other across his face. It came away bloody. His gaze switched back to her, murder and lust flooding his eyes and deforming his once-handsome face. He leaned down until his face was mere fractions of an inch away from hers, and rasped, "Mine and mine alone, Teyla, just before you _die_!"

The nausea caused by his arm pressing down on her throat was nothing compared to the sickness she felt at the expression on his face. Before she could attempt to avert her face, his mouth closed over hers, cutting off what little breath remained to her. Tears spilled over Teyla's cheeks as she felt her lip split. She tasted blood.

**-M77UA3-**

"Okay, we are now _rapidly_ running out of time! We have got to get away from here!"

John stared at the HUD, eyes focused on the two life-sign dots moving away into the woods. "Rodney, we can't just leave Teyla here to die!"

McKay's hands clenched into fists, his eyes equally fixed in desperation on the HUD. "I know! But I don't know what we can possibly do! We can't land in the forest, we don't have beaming technology, and there's no way we can overtake them on foot!"

"Colonel, Rodney! Ronon is awake!"

Both spun at Radek's call. John's gaze immediately went to his teammate, whose unfocused eyes roved dazedly around the back of the jumper, as if searching.

"Teyla!" The Satedan ex-Runner struggled weakly to sit, but Zelenka easily kept him down with a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Gotta -- get Teyla 'way -- from --"

Sheppard glanced back over his shoulder at the HUD; then making a swift decision, he turned back and motioned with his eyes to the syringe lying atop the med kit. Though surprised, Zelenka nodded and reached for it at once.

"It's okay, Ronon." As Zelenka made room for him, John knelt beside Ronon's head in the constricted space. Putting his own hand on the other man's shoulder, he leaned closer to say intensely, "We'll get her back, buddy. You just need to take it easy."

"Sheppard." Deep-set green eyes tried desperately to lock with his as Ronon's hand came up to seize his wrist. "Garros -- he took Teyla -- he's gonna _kill_ her 'cause she doesn't love him. . ." Ronon mumbled the words in urgent tones, sounding fevered and half out of his mind.

"What?" John stared at his teammate. "Ronon, _who's_ got Teyla?" But Ronon's eyes rolled back in his head and his grip slackened. Sheppard whipped his head around to see if Radek had already administered the morphine. The Czech scientist immediately lifted both hands, one of which held the unused syringe, and shook his head.

_Garros, Garros. . . Does he mean Gathos?_ John turned to look at Rodney, who stood staring at Ronon with anguished eyes.

"What's the status of those Hives?" John snapped, getting back to his feet.

McKay blinked and shook his head sharply. "I, uh--" He spun back to face the HUD, bending to input a command, which changed the display filling the screen. "Two have entered the system so far. It looks like we have a thirty-four second window between the first one dropping out and the second. Assuming that interval remains constant, and also knowing it'll take about a dozen before the cumulative effect on the isotope causes the sun to go nova. . ."

"Okay, we have a little bit of time to work with. Where's Teyla?"

Rodney readjusted the screen, zooming back in on the life-signs. "Huh -- they've stopped moving."

John stared at the screen, quickly calculating times and distances in his mind. It would be cutting it close, but at a dead run they _might_ be able to make it. . .

McKay stared at him. "I know what you're thinking, Colonel. But remember, we have to allow time to dial the Stargate, send our shield code, and not only enter the wormhole but also get the shield up once we're on the other side, because there is going to be one h--"

"Yes, Rodney. I know. Now _be quiet_ and let me think!" They were running out of time, and no matter how he figured it, he was coming up short on his calculations: There was no way he could go rescue Teyla, make it back with her, and still get them all safely through the Stargate.

**-M77UA3-**

_You shall not have me against my will_!

The thought blazed white-hot through Teyla's mind, an anchor for her determination that this _could not_ be the end, Garros _would not_ win! She knew at some point her hated enemy would _have_ to loose her slightly in order to accomplish his intent. And when the time came, she would be ready. Preparing herself to take advantage of that moment, Teyla forced herself to feign going limp. She refused to give him any additional satisfaction from her continued struggles, even though bile rose hot and choking into her throat. Soon now, it had to be soon--

Although it didn't go completely away, the pressure across her throat eased as Garros rolled his torso to his left. Exercising iron control, Teyla stayed motionless, remembering all she had to fight for: Ronon's love for her; her love for him; the hopes they'd had for a life together safe on Atlantis with friends that were more like family. Not until his weight lifted slightly from her lower body while his free hand clawed at her waistband did she take action.

Her eyes sprang open. Allowing all her gut-deep revulsion to fuel her attack, Teyla wrenched her left arm along the ground straight out from her side before arcing a hammer fist into his temple. Garros's eyes widened in stunned surprise as he slumped over onto his left hip and elbow. Throwing herself into a sideways roll, she surged up onto her knees, continuing onto her feet.

"I am _Ronon's_, and Ronon's only!" Teyla threw the words at Garros like stones, each one lava-hot with hate. "How could you think that, having known _his_ love, I would ever submit to--"

With an insane howl, Garros launched out of his crouch, crooked hands stretching out for her. Taking one swift step to the side and bracing herself, Teyla put all her strength behind a ridge hand strike straight into his larynx, crushing it. His knees crumpled. Falling face-first, he skidded along the forest floor for a few feet, coming to rest half under a tangle of dead branches. His clawed fingers scrabbled at the loamy soil. Teyla stepped towards him and bent so her mouth was close to his ear. "I belong to _Ronon,_ and no one else!" she said fiercely over the horrific noises he made. "Carry that knowledge with you into the dark, and may it torment you for all eternity!"

Straightening as she stepped back, she wrapped her arms around her aching middle, bowed her head, and closed her eyes. _Ancestors, it is over. It is _finally_ over._

Ronon's deep voice seemed to sound within her mind: _No it isn't, love. You've got to get back to the Stargate._

Her eyelids snapped up. _Ronon!_ Did he still live, or had that terrible fall-- Teyla sprang into a full-out run, ignoring her body's immediate, painful protests. No, she would not consider any possibility other than that he still lived! She tore back through the woods, desperate to reach him, to see his face and hear his voice and feel his touch.

Patches of red sunlight broke through the screen of interwoven branches above her, lighting her path and illuminating the end of the trail at the forest's edge. Too caught up in her fearfulness for Ronon, she didn't notice the wrongness of that sunlight, a wrongness caused by what was happening in the sky far above her. A different, hateful voice filled her mind now, taunting her: _He's dead, of course he's dead, my foolish betrothed. If he lived, would he not have come to your aid, even if he had to drag himself every inch of the way?_

"Ronon, Ronon, Ronon." Scarcely realizing it, Teyla chanted that beloved name in time with her racing footsteps, using it as a talisman against her panic. She broke into the clearing, her eyes straining ahead of her steps toward the DHD, anxiously searching for Ronon, and slid to a stop. There were only _two_ bodies lying around the Ancestral device, not _three_ -- and neither of the two was Ronon.

"_Ronon_!" His name tore free of her throat, her heart nearly bursting with overwhelming terror. "_No,_ where are you?"

Arms closed around her waist from behind, and pulled her backward. She screamed her lost love's name again, trying wildly to free herself from this unexpected threat.

"Teyla, come on, we're out of time!" a voice, familiar despite its being so distorted by stress, said into her ear.

She stopped struggling when she recognized John Sheppard's voice. "John?" The ominously tinted sunlight disappeared as she was pulled into the rear of a cloaked jumper. Vaguely, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Zelenka as he frantically slapped the control to raise the rear hatch.

Sheppard released her waist. Staggering slightly, she turned and saw him leaping for the cockpit. "It's okay, Teyla," he yelled back at her, "it's all going to be okay!"

Teyla took an unsteady step forward, nearly tripped. Her breath bated with hope, she looked down. . .

. . .And saw one of Garros's bodyguards, sprawling as if he'd been dropped in the aisle of the jumper's rear compartment. Her knees wobbled under her, nearly giving way.

"No, no, look here." Dr. Zelenka gently took hold of her shoulders, urging her to turn to her left. She obeyed, and was rewarded with the sight of Ronon, lying on the bench seat. His eyes were closed, his head resting on a folded-up jacket, and his left arm was in a sling. A white bandage covered one side of his forehead, but _oh merciful Ancestors!_ she could see the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

"_Ronon_." Teyla's breath rushed out in a relieved utterance of his name. Suddenly the world began to slip away from her, washed away on a wave of exhaustion. She was distantly aware of her legs buckling, dropping her downward into roaring blackness. Two arms wrapped around her and eased her onto something soft, while a heavily-accented voice whispered something that sounded reassuring.

Finally, she let go and allowed everything to slip away from her into darkness.

**-M77UA3-**

"Sheppard, you don't have _time_ to go after her--"

"I _know_, McKay! _Shut up_!"

"I _won't_ shut up! The sun is teetering dangerously close to the edge of going supernova and taking this planet with it, and we have to--"

"Rodney, I am _not_ leaving until our _entire_ team is here, do you understand me? _We don't leave our people behind!_"

"Oh, so we're just going to pointlessly blow ourselves to oblivion for--"

"_QUIET!_"

Sheppard's and McKay's mouths snapped shut as they spun to face the typically soft-spoken Zelenka. The Czech was pointing at the HUD, his hand shaking. "Will you both stop screaming at each other and _look_?!"

John's gaze focused on the life-signs window. One of the two small white dots had disappeared. The other was headed at a very rapid pace for the jumper.

"Teyla!" Rodney's voice came out strangled.

"I _told_ you!" John exulted. He slammed his hand down on the hatch control and ran for the back. "I _told_ you she was going to make it in time!"

John waited impatiently for the ramp to finish lowering so he could go meet Teyla. Beyond the hatch, he saw her skid to a halt a few yards away. She looked around the immediate area of the DHD, blinding panic obvious on her battered face. Her clothes were ripped and dirty. Blood streaked her arm; deep scratches scored one side of her waist; and angry red marks and developing bruises marred nearly every other inch of exposed skin. In a choked, hoarse voice, she screamed: "Ronon! _No_, where are you?" She looked very small and almost broken as she swept a wild-eyed gaze around her.

Leaping off the still-lowering ramp, John ran forward. She didn't even notice him, she was so intent on finding her missing teammate. Acutely aware of the need for haste, he grabbed her around her waist and pulled her back toward the jumper.

As soon as he touched her, she began to struggle violently. He gasped out, "Teyla, come on, we're out of time!" and she immediately quieted.

"John?" he heard her ask in disbelief as they skidded to a stop safely inside the jumper. John nodded to Zelenka to close the rear hatch as he said reassuringly, "It's okay, Teyla, it's all going to be okay." Or, at least, it would be as soon as he reached the front of the jumper; dialed the Stargate; and got them home to Atlantis.

McKay's hand was already flying over the jumper's DHD when John got to the cockpit and dropped into the pilot's seat. A small sound from Teyla made him spin back half around in time to see her slump downwards in a faint. Before he could open his mouth, Zelenka caught her from behind. He eased her down and, supporting her against his chest, glanced up with a reassuring nod.

"Okay, hang on back there!" John clutched the controls and ordered the jumper to take off.

Rodney looked up as he typed in the final digit for their shield code. As his gaze fastened itself on the HUD, his eyes bulged. "Go, go, _go!_" he half-gasped, half-screamed.

John didn't need to ask to know they were out of time. Without taking time to swing the jumper around the necessary 180 degrees to face the active Stargate, he pressed the equivalent of a gas pedal. The ship shot backward into the shimmering event horizon. John had a momentary awareness of dropping through subspace, which in itself was unusual enough. But worse was the hair-raisingly terrifying wave of pure energy apparently blasting the wormhole apart as it chased after them--

--Then they were in Atlantis's welcoming and familiar Gateroom. As one, he and Rodney yelled into the open radio: "_Shield!_"

Even inside the jumper, the horrendous, echoing crash of the massively powerful shockwave impacting the shield was deafening. John flung his arms over his face and squeezed his eyes shut against the intolerable brightness blazing just a few feet beyond the jumper's windscreen.

Then -- comparative dark and blessed silence.

John allowed himself to let out the breath he'd been holding. He slumped bonelessly forward over the controls as the jumper went to autopilot, smoothly raising itself into the bay above the Gateroom.

_We're _finally_ safe._

_-To Be Continued-_

_I apologize for taking so long to update this! Lots of things happened over the holidays that kept me too busy to write and my beta too busy to beta. But here's the next chapter, and I hope the next will be up soon! Happy New Year to all!_

**Elvamp 1-13-97**: I'm glad you're still enjoying it, I'm so sorry it took me so long to update, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**AthosionWarrior**: LOL Both Teyla and Ronon's fates are revealed in this chapter. I'm sorry it took me so long to update, but I hope to have the next one up soon. Thanks for the review, I hope you had a Merry Christmas, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**monstermunch3435**: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this updated, but I hope the next chapter will be up fairly soon! Thank you so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I hope you had a happy Christmas!

**TeylaFan**: Thank you! I'm sorry it took me so long to update, hopefully the next one will be up soon, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Bunnylass**: Thank you! I cringed all the way through writing the scene with Ronon coming out of the Stargate – I hated to do it to him, but I'd had that scene in my head _way_ too long not to write it! I'm sorry about the evil cliffie last chapter, and for the long wait for this one. I hope you enjoy, and I hope that the next update will be much sooner!

**SpaceMonkey091**: -giggles nervously- Um – I'm sorry? I can imagine it pretty well, though, because I've been there a _whole_ lot of times myself. I'm so sorry for the evil cliffie last chapter, and the long wait for this update. Hopefully the next one will be up much sooner. I hope you enjoy this chapter! -hugs-

**Hannah 554**: Thank you! And definitely poor Ronon. I cringed all the way through writing that scene, but I'd had it with me much too long to _not_ write it. I think you'll like this chapter. -wink- And I'm glad John and Rodney turned out right in the last chapter, I love them, but sometimes I'm afraid of taking their back-and-forthing _too_ far and it seeming over-the-top instead of funny. Thank you for the review, and I apologize for taking so long to get this chapter up! I hope to get the next one up much sooner. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and that you had a Merry Christmas yourself! -hugs-


	14. Respite

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 14/?

**Dedication**: This chapter is dedicated to _TeylaFan_, who has been awesomely and unbelievably patient with me as I've worked my way through this chapter. -hugs- Bedankt – and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**-Chapter 13-**

_Respite_

_Light_. Light so intense as to seem a physical force blotting out everything but its own reality. And then the _sound_, vibrating straight to her core until she thought her joints would shake apart from it.

Abruptly, the combined onslaught ceased, leaving behind it a dazzled, ear-ringing dark. Stunned and blinded, Elizabeth slowly realized she was gripping the control room balcony railing with finger-numbing strength. Her next coherent thought concerned her staff and the Marines on guard duty below, all of whom also had to be suffering from the effects of that incredible blast. Keeping hold of the railing with one hand, she turned partly away from the Gateroom, fumbling with her free hand for her headset. At the same time, she said as loudly and reassuringly as she could, "Everyone stay calm, and remain at your stations. I'm calling the infirmary for help."

Fingers closed around hers, easily preventing her attempt. She gasped in surprise and, feeling an irrational surge of panic, tensed and tried to pull free. John's voice, loud enough to be heard by everyone in both the Gate and control rooms, and firm with authority, said from over her head, "This is Sheppard -- stand down, folks. Beckett and his people are already on the way, and so are backups to take over for you until your sight comes back. You're experiencing flash blindness. It should wear off sometime soon, but for now just do as Dr. Weir said, and stay put."

Elizabeth allowed herself to sag back against the railing in relief. She lowered her hand, her fingers curling automatically around his thumb when he would have released his hold. "John," she said, her voice coming out more breathless and shaken than she wanted it to sound. "How--? What--?"

After a couple of seconds' hesitation, John tentatively wrapped his fingers around her hand again. "The jumper's windscreen has some kind of liquid crystal-like technology. Between it and the shield going up, the blast got dimmed enough so McKay, Zelenka, and I were only blinded for a couple of minutes," he explained. "They both stayed with Ronon and Teyla while I beat it down here from the jumper bay as soon as I could see anything. I knew if it was that bad inside the jumper, it'd be a whole lot worse for you. For all of you." His other hand gently came to rest on her shoulder. "We -- had to cut it pretty close there at the end to get them out. Sorry, 'Lizabeth."

She nodded quickly a couple of times, absorbing his words even while gulping back a sudden insane urge to giggle at his blatant understatement. Drawing a deep breath to steady and focus herself, she asked, "You said Rodney and Radek stayed with Teyla and Ronon? Why? Are they injured?"

"Let's just say they're going to need some down time." John's voice took on a guarded note. She instantly saw with her mind's eye the tightly shuttered expression that always went along with that particular tone. He seemed to sense how unsatisfactory she found his response, because he quickly added, "They're both banged up a little -- well, maybe more than a little -- but I promise you, they'll be okay."

Although she found her continuing sightlessness disconcerting, Elizabeth felt her heart rate slowing to a more normal pace. "All right," she said, processing that. "I'm glad you were able to get them back safely, if not necessarily." her lips quirked on the word, "soundly. But John, _what happened?_ Why _did_ you have to cut it so close, as you put it?"

She felt his fingers twitch around hers. "Yeah, well," he said half under his breath, "I'm kinda looking forward to finding that out myself."

Before she could question him further, Elizabeth heard the sounds of many footsteps rapidly entering and then crossing the Gateroom to the stairs leading up to the control room, as well as approaching along the upper access corridor in front of her office. Voices raised in sharply barked military commands punctuated their beat, along with just as crisply issued medical directions somewhat softened by Carson's burr. John let go of her hand as he carefully withdrew his thumb from her grasp, also releasing his light grip on her shoulder with a murmured, "Dr. Biro is headed our way."

"Thank you," she murmured back, her stomach muscles tightening in renewed apprehension. _Dr. Biro? Not Carson? So. . . If he's gone straight to them, then Teyla and Ronon must be hurt more badly than John wants to let on._

Just as Dr. Biro spoke her name, though, a masculine voice called from the control room, "Dr. Weir! We've got a transmission incoming from the _Daedalus_."

She had no time for any kind of personal weakness. Calling on her inner reserves of strength, Elizabeth unhesitatingly straightened away from the railing. "Thank you," she called back, "I'll be right there. Dr. Biro," she politely but implacably cut off the woman's beginning protests, "excuse me, but I'll meet with you in the infirmary after I deal with this. John, your arm, please." She extended her left hand slightly towards where she could sense him still standing, her head turning in that direction as well.

As she'd known they would, John's fingers closed around hers long enough to tuck them into the crook of his right arm. While guiding her off the balcony, he said under his breath, "If you're determined to do this, Elizabeth, you might want to open your eyes."

Oh. She'd thought they _were_ open. "Thank you," she said again, equally softly. She concentrated briefly. "Is this better?"

"Yep." A pause, then reluctantly, "Can you--?"

"No. Not yet, at least." She made a determined effort to sound offhandedly optimistic, since she really didn't have the time just now to deal with her fear of being permanently blinded. "Anything else I should know?"

"Backup staff is all in place, and the control room is clear of medical personnel. --And we did bring back one prisoner," he admitted the instant before he brought her to a halt and allowed her to release his arm. Simultaneously, the same com tech who had called to her said, "Colonel Caldwell coming onscreen now, ma'am."

Folding her arms across her diaphragm, Elizabeth suppressed her reaction even as she nodded in acknowledgment of John's last revelation. "Thank you, Nobuo," she quickly whispered to the com tech, intensely appreciating once again the loyalty and alertness of all her staff. Then, visualizing the screen she couldn't see, she raised her chin and her voice, saying with a confidence she was far from feeling, "Colonel Caldwell, how is the situation on Belsa?"

"According to Major Lorne's most recent report, shock is keeping things mostly stable for now," the reply came back. "There was some initial turmoil in the front ranks, but news of the Stargate's disappearance is still in the process of spreading through the gathered forces and the town itself -- and probably getting progressively wilder with each retelling. Whenever possible, Lorne and his team, as well as the Satedans, are either planting or encouraging the idea that maybe the Ancients have for some reason chosen to intervene in the matter. Hopefully, that will help keep a lid on the situation and buy us some time. Bottom line, though, we need to get the Stargate back in place so all these people can get off Belsa and go home. Colonel Sheppard," the forced neutrality of Caldwell's tone came clearly through to her, "how successful was your side of the mission?"

"Of the twenty-three Hives Atlantis has been tracking, at least twelve were destroyed when the system's sun blew. We're not sure yet about the blast wave's effects on the eleven that were still in hyperspace. But there's a strong possibility some, if not all, of them were also destroyed, or at least disabled." John's voice had that nasal blandness that made Elizabeth want to bow her head, pinch the bridge of her nose, and sigh. "We came back with one prisoner," he paused half a beat, "who is currently unconscious from a head wound sustained before we recovered him."

"What about Ronon and Teyla?" Sharpness cut through Caldwell's next words. "Can't they identify him? And have they given any explanation as to why they jeopardized the mission?"

"The _mission_ was never in jeopardy." Steel edged John's reply. A sudden image flashed into Elizabeth's mind: Two boys jabbing sticks at each other through a separating fence. "And since they're both injured _and_ unconscious, I haven't had a chance to debrief them yet. But thank you for your concern, _sir_."

All right, Elizabeth decided, enough was enough. With the smoothness of long practice, she inserted herself back into the conversation and took control of it. "Colonel Caldwell," she said firmly, "I agree Hermiod should restore the Gate as soon as possible. In the meantime, have Major Lorne continue to monitor the situation on Belsa firsthand." The dazzle slowly began to recede from the edges of her vision as she spoke; she fought hard against the insistent urge to blink repeatedly. "Report back if there are any major changes on your end. Atlantis out."

At Nobuo's, "Screen off," she finally allowed her head to droop, bringing her hands up to cover her eyes. The tech's concerned, "Ma'am?" coincided with John's louder, "Elizabeth?"

Immediately, Elizabeth dropped her hands away from her face and raised her head again, saying, "No, I'm all right. It's just like I was looking straight at the mother of all flashbulbs when it went off." She allowed herself the luxury of several hard blinks. "But I'm starting to pick up movement out of the corners of my eyes."

"That's a good sign." John drew her hand into the crook of his arm again. "You still need to let Dr. Biro check you out, though, like you told her you would. We can check on -- everybody -- while we're there," he added persuasively.

The afterimage marring Elizabeth's vision had shrunk to an annoying dot by the time she and John reached their destination. They paused just inside the infirmary entrance, scanning from side to side. She spotted McKay and Zelenka hovering near a light-barred wall which angled out into the larger space just as John said, "Over there," and cut sharply left toward the two scientists, towing her with him. After a couple of steps, he raised his voice slightly. "You guys check out okay?"

Radek nodded mutely. Still sounding shaken, Rodney said, "Yes, yes, we're fine." His pale blue-grey eyes darted restlessly between Elizabeth and John as they closed the rest of the distance between them, she unobtrusively reclaiming her hand. "What about the two of you? What took you so long? Was there a problem upstairs?"

"No." Elizabeth uneasily hoped John's flat denial wasn't premature as he went on to ask, "Any word on Ronon and Teyla?"

Before either of them could answer, Carson stepped around from the other side of the wall. He swept a look around their small circle and said without preamble, "Besides the dislocated shoulder, Ronon is severely concussed, and that cut on his head is being stitched right now. Teyla has some nasty bruises and lacerations, but they're going to be fine, both of them. Oh, and I replaced her locater beacon so the lass can heal from that at the same time as everything else."

John nodded once in acknowledgement, very briefly, his expression still having an underlying tightness. "I take it Ronon isn't awake yet, but what about Teyla? Is she--?"

"No, Colonel," came the reply, promptly and firmly, "she isn't. And likely won't be for a while. Whatever happened out there to put the pair of them in this condition -- it took a lot out of them." Beckett shook his head and sighed, then turned brisk again. "So, ye nearly brought a supernova home to dinner, did ye? Fortunately, though, no one seems to have taken any lasting damage from the blast wave. Dr. Biro tells me you're the last two needing to be scanned, so come along and we'll get that done. Then ye'll be free to go."

And like it or not, for the time being Elizabeth knew they would have to be satisfied with that.

**-Atlantis-**

The sensation of small fingers stroking down his arm from the crease of his elbow to his wrist then back up again coaxed Ronon toward consciousness. The mattress by his head dipped a little. Softly warm lips pressed lightly against his cheek as a familiar fragrance drifted past his nose: _Teyla._ He reflexively swallowed, his fingers twitching as hers grew closer to his hand again.

"Ronon?" The voice – soft, low, and very close to his ear – brought warmth and relief in equal proportions to him. Her hand nestled its way into his.

Feeling a smile grow on his lips, Ronon closed his hand over hers and squeezed. "Tey-la." His hoarse voice cracked in the middle of her name. By experience cautious of the ferocious ache in his head, he squinted his eyes open the merest slit.

With her near hand braced against the mattress close to his head and the other held by his, she leaned over him, her loved and lovely features all but filling his field of vision. Her eyes, dark with worry, widened in relief when they made contact with his. "Ronon, thank the Ancestors, you are finally awake."

Ronon warily lifted his head a little, glad the lights were dimmed enough not to increase the dull throbbing in his head. "Infirmary?" he asked. Subconsciously he'd known he was there – but it helped to _see_ his location, and that Teyla was with him. _We're safe – finally,_ he thought in some incredulity.

"Yes." Teyla leaned even closer, supporting herself on her elbow while her hand moved to smooth across his forehead and over his hair, her next words echoing his thought. "We are safe, my love."

"The planet? Garros?"

A very small, very grim smile briefly quirked Teyla's lips. "Garros will bother us no more. As for the planet – I do not know. However, since we are here, I believe we can assume the plan was successful."

Ronon started to reach his left hand up to touch her face, then realized his arm was immobilized against his side and chest. "Huh," he said, mildly surprised.

Teyla removed her hand from his, laying it lightly on top of the white material swathing him as she explained, "The energy transferred from the Gate being beamed up as you jumped through the wormhole caused you to exit the other side at a – very high rate of speed. You dislocated your shoulder, and also hit your head on the DHD. John, Rodney, and Dr. Zelenka found you."

Oh. That explained that. "Are you okay?" Now his right hand was free, he lifted it to caress her face.

"I am now." Assurance rang confidently in each word, just before she briefly winced.

Ronon's fingers paused on her jaw as his eyes focused on the bruise showing dark on her honey brown skin, below her split and swollen lip. "Teyla?" he questioned.

"There was – a fight. I won." Her tone took on a deeper, darker note. "Unlike that night on Athos, this time I fought for something far more, far greater than just my freedom. And that gave me the strength I needed to kill Garros."

Now that Ronon was actively looking, he saw more bruises, along with small scrapes and cuts, not just on her face, but also on the parts of her neck and arms bared by the white infirmary pajama top. His blood beginning to burn, he wondered how many others marred her body beneath the concealing fabric. "I'm glad he's dead." For a moment his tone mirrored hers as his fingers very lightly brushed one of the discolorations on her neck. He let his hand slip lower, across her shoulder, down her arm until he could twine his fingers with hers again. "I – just wish there were some way to bring him back – so _I_ could kill him, too," he hastened to add as shock showed on her face.

Teyla laid her other hand on top of his larger one, and smiled a little. "We are free, at last we are _free_." She closed her eyes and sighed, lifting his hand to brush her lips across it.

Ronon let his own lids droop shut, a different kind of warmth building inside him as he murmured, "Free, with you." The words brought peace to his heart.

Her breath puffed warm and sweet across his lips as she suddenly bent to kiss them. "Just a moment." She carefully set his hand at his side, slowly withdrawing her fingers. He felt the mattress rebound slightly as she removed her weight from it.

At once, his eyes sprang open. He watched with some confusion as she went around to the other side of the gurney she'd evidently been lying on, and began maneuvering it toward his. "Uh – Teyla? What're you doing?"

"Moving my bed closer to yours." Once she had it butted up against the side of his to her satisfaction, she hopped up on it, drew the disarranged covers over herself, and then smiled at him.

Smiling back, Ronon extended his arm to her. She immediately scooted closer to rest her head on his uninjured shoulder. He closed his arm around her, cradling her strong slenderness to his side. "Much better," he whispered into her soft hair.

Teyla carefully fit her right arm over his diaphragm, just under his strapped-down arm. "Much," she agreed. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and snuggled her forehead into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Moments later, her light breathing signaled she'd already fallen asleep. Ronon pressed a kiss on the crown of her head, settled his head back on his pillow, and followed her into peaceful slumber.

_-To Be Continued-_

_**I deeply and sincerely apologize for the very long wait for this chapter! I have written and rewritten this so many times, and then I sent it to my beta, and I wrote more for it – and then she had to beta that part! I know this chapter is shorter than the others, and I apologize. It was longer, but this seemed a natural place to end this chapter, and ending it here gave me the opportunity to get the update to you all. Plus, I had to sacrifice a **_**lot**_** that I liked, but wasn't moving the plot along – that is also what was taking so long. But thank you all so much for your incredible patience with me, and I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter! -hugs you all-**_

**AthosionWarrior**: Yes, very poor Teyla! LOL I really whumped her last chapter. But I promise the worst is over for her. . . At least for now. Thanks for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**TeylaFan**: Bedankt! The last chapter was definitely fun to write, though I did feel sorry for whumping both Teyla and Ronon. Again, thank you _so_ much for your patience while I've been working on this chapter, and my beta's been beta'ing. -hugs- I really hope this chapter was worth the wait! Thanks for the review, and I hope you enjoy!

**Hannah554**: Thank you so much! Teyla kicking butt was kind of hard to write – I went back over and over it five or six times, so I'm glad it turned out well. And I'm really glad you liked John and Rodney – they are so fun to write! lol Thank you so much for your review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Bunnylass**: Wow! Thank you!! Even after all this time, your review still makes me grin and blush. . . I'm really sorry I had you on the edge of your seat there for a while, but it's also kind of nice to know that I accomplished the suspense factor. Thanks again so much for your review and your kind words, and I hope this chapter was worth the wait and that you enjoy it!

**monstermunch3435**: Thank you! I'm really glad that you like my story so much, and I'm really sorry that it has taken me _so long_ to update it. I hope to have the next chapter up much, much sooner – as well as the rest of the story. Again, thank you so much for your review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter, and that it was worth the wait!

**SpaceMonkey0941**: Yay! -hugs- Thank you! Again, it seems that I've taken _forever_ to update – I'm so sorry about that! But I really think you'll like this chapter. -wink- Thanks so much for your review, and I hope you like this chapter – and that it was worth the wait!

**Elfvamp1-13-97**: I hope your internet's working better now! -hugs- And I apologize for taking so long to update this – I hope the chapter was worth the wait! Thanks so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**TubaPrincess**: Wow, thank you! (I think. Intense is good, right?) This chapter is solely on Atlantis, but there is an update on what's going on Belsa – and I promise there will be more Major Lorne in the next chapter. He's such fun to write I can't resist. lol Thank you so much for your review, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! (And I'm sorry for the long wait!)


	15. Precision

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 15/?

**-Chapter 14-**

_Precision_

"What do you mean, they're not going away?"

Controlling an inward wince at Elizabeth's blurted comment, John managed to keep his face totally deadpan but thought, _C'mon, 'Lizabeth,_ _pull it together. You gotta at least _sound _awake!_ To give her time to recover her poise, he thrust his hands in his pockets and drawled, "Maybe you should've hung a sign saying 'Party's Over, Guys' on the Stargate before you beamed it back down."

On the control room's big main screen, Colonel Caldwell's normally hard expression took on an added edge of ice. But Major Lorne, long accustomed to his CO's sense of humor, cracked an appreciative if tired grin. "Maybe we should've, sir," he agreed, then turned sober again. "It's more or less what the Belsans are starting to say more and more openly, now that Gathos and, presumably, the reason for his army are gone. But, except for Sincha and the Satedans, nobody's budging."

Sheppard lifted his head slightly at that. "The Satedans left?"

"Yessir, just before I beamed up to the _Daedalus_ for this call. Some of them nearly got lynched for only hinting that maybe Gathos wasn't on the up-and-up. After that, Solen got his people out as fast as he could, though he did say to tell Ronon and Teyla he's glad they're okay."

"Smart man." Caldwell spoke for the first time. "It's past the time we emulated his example. We've accomplished our objective. Now we should make our own strategic withdrawal." He leaned forward slightly in his command chair in emphasis.

Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Elizabeth's shoulders tense as she folded her arms across her midriff. Her chin went up. "_Have_ we, Colonel? I don't see the point of putting so much effort into saving all these people from being indirectly slaughtered by Gathos if we do nothing to keep them and the Belsans from killing each other now. Major Lorne, do you have any idea at all _why_ the gathered forces aren't dispersing as we expected?"

On the screen, the young officer rubbed tiredly at his forehead. "You're not going to like this, ma'am. . . Apparently they're waiting for Gathos to return, even though I know and you know that isn't going to happen. Still, all the talk here is of his coming back in 'triumph and glory.' That's a direct quote, by the way." He paused to make a wry face. "I'm afraid our own strategy has maybe backfired on us. There're a lot of wild stories making the rounds about how _Gathos_ was an Ancient all along -- the guy must've had incredible charisma. Everybody is trying to top everyone else's tale of this or that he said or did which in convenient hindsight proves how he was more than human all along. Considering what nearly happened to the Satedans who tried to counter the idea, unless someone known to be close enough to him to know better comes forward and debunks the idea. . ." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Someone such as the prisoner we brought back." John nodded, holding Lorne's eyes with his own. He sensed more than saw Caldwell's glare focus on him. "Carry on, Major, and keep your men out of harm's way as much as you can. I'll get back to you with a plan as soon as possible."

"In the meantime, Colonel Caldwell," Elizabeth interjected smoothly, "please keep a lock on all our personnel on Belsa so they can be transported onto the _Daedalus_ immediately if the situation warrants such extreme action. Thank you for the update, gentlemen. Atlantis out." As soon as the screen went dark, she turned to John, said, "My office," and briskly took off in that direction.

However, Sheppard leaned close to the com tech and whispered, "Coffee," before he followed her. Settling into his usual chair across from her desk, he stretched out his legs, folded his hands across his middle, and commented, "Caldwell really hates it when you do that, you know."

"If the two of you would act your ages, I wouldn't _have_ to do that," Elizabeth snapped. She sighed, then, and rubbed at both eyes with her fingertips.

He let it pass. "Eyes still bothering you?"

"Not really. It's just the leftover headache, _and_ stress, _and_ being woken so soon after I'd _finally_ fallen asleep--" Letting her hands drop back onto her desktop, she clasped them together and looked straight into his eyes. "I'm sorry, John. That was uncalled for."

Sheppard returned her look for a moment, feeling strangely regretful. "We -- rub each other the wrong way," he finally said quietly, without his usual flippancy. "I'm sorry you get caught in the middle, 'Lizabeth, when we do."

She gave him a wisp of a smile. "Truth be told, when Caldwell gets in one of those moods, he rubs _me_ the wrong way, too." One of the control room techs came in at that moment, long enough to deliver two mugs of steaming coffee. Each murmured their thanks as they accepted one. Elizabeth cradled hers in both hands, raising it so she could blow gently across the surface of the hot liquid inside, and took a tiny sip. Cocking an eyebrow at him, she leaned back in her chair and said, "And thank you, too. Ah, John," she sighed again, "why can't anything in this galaxy ever be simple. . ." Her voice trailed off. She stared down into her mug, looking uncharacteristically down and disheartened.

John found those same emotions resonating within him as well. "Yeah, them believing Gathos was some kind of Ancient really complicates things." An uneasy shiver went through John as he said the name. Vivid memory flashed through his mind, of Ronon desperately gripping his wrist while mumbling almost incoherent words: _"Garros -- he took Teyla -- he's gonna kill her 'cause she doesn't love him. . ." _He unconsciously flexed the joint against the residual soreness left by his big teammate's bruising hold.

"John? John, what is it? Are you all right?" Elizabeth's voice pulled him back to the present. At the look of concern further clouding her expression, he wanted to kick himself for adding to her worries.

"I -- was just remembering something Ronon said in the jumper, before he passed out again. He was really intense about it, but it didn't make any sense. Maybe he was trying to give us the name of the guy who plucked Teyla out of the crowd?" But even as he voiced the idea, he automatically shook his head in rejection.

She tilted her head at him, confusion replacing some of her concern. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, I guess. _Probably_ nothing," he amended, then ran a hand over his face. "I don't know. . ." He gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, 'Lizabeth. What were we talking about?"

"The situation on Belsa. How Gathos's army isn't leaving because they expect him to come back and reveal himself as some kind of Ancient." She took another sip of her coffee, before flickering a tentative glance at him over the rim and saying hesitantly, "Perhaps -- if a _genuine_ Ancient were to appear -- and tell them how Gathos intended to leave them all to die--"

John's eyes locked on hers with laser intensity as his whole body went very tense and still. Drawing a deep breath through his nose, he made himself relax again, muscle by taut muscle. "You remember as well as I do what happened the last time she left Proculus," he said, a little more flatly than he intended. "She would _want_ to help us, but she won't leave her people unprotected again to do it."

Elizabeth nodded slowly, her gaze dropping away from his. "Then," she said, her tone and expression equally bleak, "much as we may not want to accept it, we might -- to borrow a phrase from Rodney -- be screwed."

_And won't Caldwell just love that,_ John thought grimly. A glimmer of an idea chased across the back of his mind. He sat up a little straighter. "Maybe not. Look, we have the holographic map lady. We have one of Gathos's," again that little frisson of unease coursed along his nerves, "sidekicks. And we do have images of Chaya in her real, Ascended form. So, say we get a confession out of our prisoner, get McKay to do some creative cutting and editing, then beam the results to the crowd on Belsa, they all buy it and go home-- Problem solved."

"_You're_ optimistic all of a sudden." Elizabeth tilted her head to one side and cocked her eyebrow at him again, but she suddenly looked more hopeful than she had been. She took two large swigs of coffee, and set the mug aside with a decisive click. "So, we go to see the prisoner you brought back?"

"No. Let's let him stew a little longer." John drained his own mug, set it beside hers, and energetically got to his feet. "Besides, before I go anywhere near him, I want to debrief Ronon and Teyla. See what they can add."

Elizabeth stood more slowly and moved around her desk to look up at him, puzzled curiosity showing clearly in her green eyes. "John, it's only," she glanced at her watch, "a little after two in the morning. We'll have to get Carson's permission to wake them." And when he opened his mouth to protest, "You _know_ we do. When it comes to the infirmary and medical situations, he outranks both of us."

Much as John hated to admit it, she was right. "Okay, then. While you go wake him up and get that permission, I'll go roust out McKay and get him started on modifying the images we already have into what we're going to need. Meet you in the infirmary."

((()))

"Here, now -- what's this, then?"

Dr. Beckett's voice, very close and very startled, jolted Teyla into semi-wakefulness. Blinking groggily, she lifted her head from Ronon's shoulder, at the same time trying to turn toward its source. Every sore muscle, every stiffened bruise protested viciously. She cringed in response and made a small, involuntary, whimpering noise in the back of her throat. Instantly, Ronon's encircling arm tightened around her, pulling her close to him once more as he mumbled a shushing sound into her hair. Snuggling into his solid warmth, she sank back towards sleep, dimly hoping she'd only dreamed Carson's outburst. . .

But when Beckett spoke again from right beside her, she had to accept his presence as undeniably real. "Well," he sounded briskly amused now, rather than surprised, "it seems congratulations are in order. Come on, now, you two, wake up. Rise and shine, and all that."

Brighter light pressed relentlessly against Teyla's eyelids. Ronon's body shifted restlessly along hers. "Go _'way_, Doc," he muttered hoarsely, "people tryin' t'sleep here."

"Aye, lad, and if it were up to me, I'd have let you sleep yourselves out. --Move over this way so I can raise you up a little now, Teyla luv." Carson gently but firmly eased Teyla fully back onto her gurney. She squinted her eyes open as he put the head up into a semi-upright position and automatically twitched her covers straight. "But Dr. Weir and Colonel Sheppard are insistin' on talkin' w'ye," he continued as he went around to do the same thing to Ronon's gurney, "and I have no medical grounds on which to refuse them--That good for ye, lad? Should I, ah, put a wee bit of space between ye?"

Instant rejection of the suggestion shivered through Teyla; she never wanted to be parted from Ronon again. "No," she said quickly, and "No!" Ronon echoed emphatically.

Beckett nodded slowly, though he still looked a little dubious. "If that's the way ye want it, then, I'll go get Elizabeth and the Colonel," he said, and left.

Teyla turned her head on her pillow to look at Ronon. Now they were about to make their new relationship known to Atlantis's leaders, she felt distinctly nervous. As if sensing it, he took hold of her left hand with his right and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"No more hiding our feelings," he said softly, his thumb tracing across the back of her hand in delicious, soothing patterns. His lips turned up in that gentle smile only she ever saw. "No matter what."

She heard footsteps quickly approaching their screened off corner. "Together, no matter what," she agreed softly, and turned her attention to the gap between two overlapping screens. Her fingers tightened reflexively on his.

Elizabeth entered first, looking tired and worried. Teyla saw one of her eyebrows twitch up and back down, as her eyes quickly went from Teyla to Ronon, to their joined hands, and up to their faces again. Colonel Sheppard, his hands in his pockets, came in right behind Dr. Weir, his face wearing the tight expression that told her he was already totally focused in on a situation. Though he did check up slightly when he first saw them, that was his only outward reaction. Carson came in last. He took up a position to one side of their gurneys, saying quietly but firmly, "Let's keep this as short as possible, then."

"We'll do our best," Elizabeth said, inclining her head briefly in his direction without taking her eyes off them. She took a deep breath. "First of all, Teyla, Ronon, I'm very glad you're both safely back with us again. And I'm very sorry we have to disturb your recovery time." Was it only Teyla's imagination, or did the other woman hesitate ever so slightly over those last words? "But the situation on Belsa is looking -- very bad. Except for the Satedans, no one has left since the _Daedalus_ beamed the Stargate back into place. The other half-million or so people comprising Gathos's army have no intention of dispersing to their homeworlds within the near future. And since the Belsans don't have the resources or the infrastructure to support such a massive incursion for any length of time, it won't be long until they start demanding to have their planet to themselves again. _Forcefully_ demanding."

So attuned were they now, Ronon's inner alarm at the mention of his people echoed through Teyla as if it were her own. He sat forward slightly and said, "I don't understand. I thought the plan was for Solen and his group to stay and help Major Lorne and the Marines."

Sheppard rocked gently on his heels as he said almost offhandedly, "Yeah, Sincha and his buddies tried spreading the word, all according to plan. . . Which is how some of them nearly got themselves killed, so they pulled out. Seems like the rest of the crowd is convinced Garros was some kind of Ancient, and they're all bent on being there when he returns to Belsa in -- how did Lorne phrase it, Elizabeth? Something about in 'triumph and glory,' wasn't it?"

Teyla's whole body went rigid, rejection flushing hotly from the crown of her head down to her toes. She sat bolt upright, leaning past Ronon, and rasped harshly, "An _Ancient?! _He was no such thing! Garros was always an evil, manipulative man, interested only in grasping power for himself--" Cold suddenly coursed through her, as if ice water had replaced all the blood in her veins. As Ronon's hand clenched warningly on hers, she stared at Sheppard, appalled at herself. On the very fringe of her vision, she barely registered Elizabeth turning her head sharply towards the colonel. Her lips almost too stiff to move, she whispered, "How -- how do you know that name?" Sheppard just matched her stare for stare, his head tipped back slightly and his eyes narrowed. After only a few seconds, Teyla dropped her own gaze uncertainly, an unaccustomed feeling of shame sweeping over her.

"I told him -- I think," Ronon said hoarsely, breaking the intense, uncomfortable silence. He looked apologetically at Teyla. "In the jumper, I came to for a few seconds. I was so out of my head-- I wasn't sure if I'd really said anything aloud, or only thought it. Or maybe even imagined it."

Looking lost, Elizabeth demanded, "'Garros?' John, who's 'Garros'?" as she unfolded her arms. "Don't you mean _Gathos_?"

Teyla could still feel Sheppard's eyes boring into her as he replied, "I have a hunch they're the same person. I went fishing for a reaction. I'd say I got one. So, Teyla," a note of quiet steel entered his voice, "enlighten me."

A leader herself, Teyla knew an order when she heard it. Beside her, Ronon sucked in a breath, but she quickly shook her head to forestall whatever he meant to say. "No, Ronon," she said, inwardly a little amazed at how steady her voice sounded, considering how hard her heart was pounding. "The situation has changed, and they must know." Holding tightly to his hand so she could draw strength from him, Teyla quietly told of her long-ago betrothal to, and betrayal by, an Athosian named Garros; of the horrific shock of discovering "Gathos" to be her former nemesis in a new identity; of his obsession with still considering her to be betrothed to him.

"At first," she said, "I thought it only a petty way to torment me, to 'get under my skin,' as Rodney would say. Now, I believe it was a sign of his madness. When the bodyguard he sent told me Garros had posted a sniper with orders to shoot Ronon if I refused to go with him," her fingers tightened convulsively on Ronon's, "I believed him. Especially since one covert attempt had already been made on his life."

"Which you _also_ neglected to mention, because you knew if I'd had a clue what was really going on, I'd've never let either one of your sorry butts anywhere near Belsa." Throughout her narrative, Colonel Sheppard's face had taken on an increasingly stern expression. Now, a sharp edge of anger sliced through his tone. Teyla saw Elizabeth, her arms folded across her midriff again, flick a sideways look at him. After that one glance, though, she returned to staring solemnly at a spot on the floor halfway between her and the foot of their gurneys. Clearly, she considered this an area where John's authority took precedence over her own.

Teyla's stomach clenched in on itself. All her injuries' throbbing soreness, which had largely receded from her awareness as she carefully told her tale, returned with a vengeance. She risked the tiniest of glances at Ronon, half-afraid she'd see him ready to erupt in an angry defense of their actions. Instead, he was sitting very, very quietly, his head bowed and a bleak expression on his face. Abruptly remembering that he'd been in Sateda's military before the Wraith made him into a Runner, it struck her that not only did he realize better than she the depth of Sheppard's anger -- but also how totally justified it was. Her stomach tightened a painful degree more, her shoulders drooping with the weight of knowing how _wrong_ her choice of secrecy had been.

Nor was Sheppard finished. He continued in the same scathing voice, "Not only did your blatant withholding of facts I needed to know as your commanding officer almost get the two of you killed: You nearly took McKay, Zelenka, and me with you. Your being a couple wouldn't have been a problem for me if you'd kept your heads on straight. But if this is the kind of hormone-driven, irresponsible behavior I can expect from _you_, Teyla, and _you_, Ronon," he paused as if to emphasize his next words, "then you can't be on my team -- _or_ anyone else's -- anymore." Teyla's head snapped up in shock. Her eyes, probing his face anxiously in an effort to gauge his sincerity, detected no trace of the amiable man she'd first met on Athos behind his implacable demeanor. She allowed her gaze to drop back to the sheet covering her knees, fighting back a shameful and unfamiliar urge to break down into tears.

"It seems to be my night for waking people up," he said as he started to turn away. "Now I get to go roust out the one bodyguard you left alive, convince him it's in his best interest to 'fess up to what his boss _really_ had planned, then spend what's left of the night averting another massacre. --Sorry to have interrupted your sleep."

Memory seized Teyla: those dreadful moments just after Garros had ordered the wounded, unconscious Ronon murdered, overlaid with a wavery image of a man sprawled in the rear aisle of a jumper. She shivered, scarcely realizing what she did when she nodded and whispered, "I saw him. . .just before I passed out. He is the one who pulled me out of the crowd and took me to Garros."

Ronon turned his head to look at her with what seemed, confusingly, to be equal parts apology and pleading. Then, leaning forward quickly, he shifted his gaze to their team leader. "Colonel Sheppard," he said; and though he sounded uncharacteristically subdued, a spark of urgency lit his tone. "I think I can help with getting him to do that-- If you'll let me-- Sir."

At first Teyla thought Sheppard so angry over their betrayal of his trust, he would ignore Ronon altogether. But then, just before he reached the gap in the screens, he paused and swung back around. His jaw visibly tight with the effort he was making to control himself, he snapped, "What do you have in mind?"

Instead of answering him directly, Ronon turned his eyes toward the leader of Atlantis, who still appeared content to be a silent observer. "Dr. Weir," he said, his deep voice intense and serious, "do you think you can pretend to be afraid of me?"

Teyla saw Elizabeth's eyebrow twitch upwards as she stepped right up to the foot of his gurney. "Perhaps. If I have a good enough reason," she replied equally gravely. "What do you have in mind?"

_-To Be Continued-_

_**A thousand apologies for taking so long to update this! I know it's been forever, but this chapter has been giving me and my beta major headaches, and has gone through a number of "tweaking sessions" to get it just right. Once more I apologize for how long it's taken, but I hope to get the next one up fairly soon! ~fyd**_

**Hannah554**: I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter! The part where John was guiding poor Elizabeth around was one of my faves to right. I can just imagine what it would have been like, not seeing anything but still having to go about business as usual! I'm also glad you liked the scene with Ronon and Teyla at the end, too. I'm sorry it took me so long to update again, but I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you so much for the review!

**TeylaFan**: Is this a nice welcome-home present? LOL I'm sorry I confused you with the beginning of the last chapter, but it was fun to write – everyone kind of lost for a little bit, with the "supernova that came home to dinner," to borrow a phrase from Carson. The last part of the last chapter was so much fun to write, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Sorry again it's taken me so long to get this up, but I hope the wait was worth it, and you enjoy! Thank you so much for the review! -hugs-

**Elfvamp1-13-97**: LOL Well, I can definitely promise you a reaction from at least three people finding them like that in the infirmary together in this chapter! I very much hope you enjoy it, and apologize deeply for how long it's taken me to update. Thank you so much for the review!

**SpaceMonkey0941**: Thank you! No, I don't think it's hypocritical of you at all to ask me to update it soon – though I do feel so awful for taking so long to do so! I'm glad you liked the J/E stuff at the beginning, it was kind of fun to write. Though I liked the part at the end, in the infirmary, better, LOL. Once more, I'm so sorry for taking so long to update this, but I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for the review! -hugs-

**Bunnylass**: Thank you! I know, me too. I made myself close my eyes and try to navigate my way around a dark room a few times before I wrote the first part of the last chapter, where Elizabeth was blinded. I'm very glad you thought I kept her in character, it was hard to try to guess how she would react in such a situation. I'm also very glad you enjoyed the last part, with Ronon and Teyla in the infirmary. That continues on a little at the end of this chapter. . . I apologize again for taking so long to update this, but I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for the review! -hugs-

**twogirlrevolution**: Really, you do? LOL Thanks. I know I must have bounced a thousand things off you for this one, and you've probably forgotten about it by now, and you'll have to read the whole thing when you see this alert in your e-box. -feels wickedly amused- I thank you for all your patience with me, and hope you enjoy this chapter! Thank you so much for the review!

**Mara-DragonMaster**: Thank you! I am so glad you were never bored in this story. I tried to weave equal parts action and romance into the story to keep it interesting. I am so honored to hear that you think I kept Ronon and Teyla in character, and naturally progressed things following that thread! Thank you so much! I apologize deeply for taking so long to update this, but I honestly hope it was worth the wait! Thank you so much for the review!


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